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WHAT PETER AND NANCY SAW IN SPAIN 














PETER and NANCY 
iru EUROPE 


BY 

MILDRED HOUGHTON COMFORT 

Author of Happy Health Stories 



BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 

CHICAGO 


m3 so 
















DEDICATED TO 
MY MOTHER 



Copyright, 1932, by 
BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 
All rights reserved 


Printed in the United States of America 


1PR 11 193? 

©CIA 


50676 



CONTENTS 


PAGE 


The Magic Uncle .. 9 

Six Meals a Day and a Barber Shop .... 14 

Strange Fish and a Walled Town. 19 

A New Land and Some Queer English . . 23 

Shipyards, Linens and Linoleum . 29 

Thistles and Heather.. 37 

Jaunting Cars and Peat Bogs . .. 42 

Shamrocks and Rain. 46 

Stratford-Not-in-the-Books .. 53 

Anne Hathaway’s Cottage .. 61 

Big Ben Tells the Time. 67 

Boats, Cheeses and Windmills. 76 

Shoe Leather and Wood. 83 

The City of Water and Doves. 89 

The Grand Canal and St. Mark’s. 92 

Foreign Words and Lemon Squash. 96 

The Leaning Tower of Pisa.100 

Handkerchief Farms.104 

Copenhagen’s Free Port.108 

3 

















4 


CONTENTS 


The Belgian Beehive. 

Fiords and Deltas. 

The Land of the Safety Match. 

Snowballs in July and Gingerbread for 
Independence.. 

“Nurnberg’s Hand Goes Through Every 
Land” . 

The Bear .. 

Goats and Currants and Marble Columns 

Adobes and Plazas. 

Patios and a Great Rock. 

A Purchase in Paris. 

A Thanksgiving Dinner. 

Christmas Best at Home. 


PAGE 

111 

119 

128 

137 

147 

156 

167 

173 

179 

187 

197 

203 














LIST OF 

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

What Peter and Nancy saw in Spain.. Frontispiece 

Nancy enjoyed playing ring toss. 21 

The spire of Holy Trinity Church among the 
trees. 58 

Nancy and Peter followed the country lane 
leading to Shottery. 63 

The guards at Buckingham Palace were tall 
and handsome. 72 

They looked out upon low fields, canals and 
endless windmills. 78 

A’ little lad, walking with his mother and sis¬ 
ters, smiled at Peter .. 87 

The Leaning Tower did lean! ......... 101 

The Belfry of Bruges, perhaps the most beau¬ 
tiful bell tower in Europe.114 

Lake Lucerne, one of the beautiful spots in 
the Swiss Alps . ..139 

The Lion of Lucerne, a monument to the 
Swiss guards.145 


5 












6 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Cologne Cathedral, the most magnificent 
Gothic building in the world.149 

A little Russian village (showing Russian 
peasant woman delivering milk).157 

Peter vowed he'd never forget the Street of 
Serpents.181 

Round-eyed Spanish children gathered in 
groups to watch the little Americans .... 185 

View of Paris showing bridges over the Seine 
River. 188 

Uncle Lee took the children for a drive along 
the Champs Elysees.191 

The gargoyles seemed to watch over the city 
with wistful, half-human faces.199 

And always . . . they saw the Eiffel Tower 
in the distance. 201 












ABOUT THIS STORY 


*YT OU may read a great deal about far-away 
places, but when you actually visit those same 
places, you will see many things not mentioned in 
books. Looking at a picture of an ocean liner gives 
you no idea of its delightful secrets. You’d never 
dream, for instance, that the place to buy candy 
is the barber shop! 

A lovely Holland landscape gives you no hint 
of the fragrance of hyacinths in bloom, nor does 
an account of St. Mark’s Square give you much 
of a thrill. Actually feeding the doves there does! 
And it’s much more fun to watch the boats unload 
and load in foreign harbors than to learn a dry 
list of imports and exports. 

Won’t you join Peter and Nancy and Uncle Lee 
on this trip to Europe? Let’s all follow the gulls! 
I’m sure we shall have a most pleasant voyage. 

Ready? Everyone is calling bon voyage !—a 
good journey. 

The Author 


7 






PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


THE MAGIC UNCLE 

P ETER and Nancy MacLaren hurried along 
the sunny dirt road towards the pleasant old 
farmhouse that was their home. The rambling 
old place seemed to be waiting impatiently for 
them to return from Sunday school. Sunday was 
always a delightful day at the MacLaren home. 
This Sunday was no exception. 

Peter and Nancy had been more than usually 
cheered by the lesson. Miracles, the dear old lady 
who taught them had declared, were not at an 
end. The most wonderful things could happen 
anywhere at any time. 

Nancy, squinting into the sunlit sky, where 
birds like tiny white airplanes wheeled against 
the blue, exclaimed, “0 Peter, how I wish that 
we might follow the gulls!” 

“Wishing doesn’t get you anywhere,” Peter 
said, wistfully, following his sister’s gaze with 
serious eyes. 

The gulls from the northern lakes, perhaps the 
Great Lakes, were soaring southward. 

“Of course it helps, Peter,” Nancy insisted. 
“Wishing is like having faith. If we wish hard 


9 



10 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


enough, perhaps our wishes will come true. 0 
Peter! Company! IPs Uncle Lee MacLaren!" 

Peter gave a shout of joy. Seizing Nancy's 
hand, he ran toward the gate. Uncle Lee saw the 
children at once, and his bronzed face wreathed 
itself in smiles. In another minute he had hugged 
them hard, and his rumbling voice was express¬ 
ing his joy at sight of them. How tall and slim he 
was! How his blue eyes sparkled, as though he 
were looking at distant, beautiful lakes, Nancy 
thought. How happy he looked, as though life 
were all a delightful adventure! 

“0 Uncle Lee!" Nancy cried, jumping up and 
down as they walked up to the house, “Peter and 
I were just wishing we could go where the gulls 
go; and our wish almost came true." 

“How's that?" asked Uncle Lee. 

“Well, instead of our going to far-off places," 
Nancy explained, “you bring the far-off places 
to us." 

“Nancy's right," Peter agreed. “Hearing you 
tell about your trips is almost as good as going. 
Nancy and I call you ‘our magic uncle,' because 
you seem to make us see the far-off places." 

Uncle Lee threw back his head and laughed. 
He seemed actually excited about something. 

“I didn't intend to tell you so soon," he began, 
“but I can make your wishes come true! To make 
a long story short, these are the facts: the radio 
corporation I work for evidently took it for 
granted that I should have a family—say, a little 





THE MAGIC UNCLE 


11 


girl with gray eyes and silky, straight hair, and 
a sturdy, blue-eyed boy—and that same old cor¬ 
poration sent me passage for three. And, since 
I’m only one, suppose you two come along with 
me.” 

"You’re joking!” accused Peter. 

"Daddy and Mother wouldn’t let us go,” Nancy 
declared, her cheeks very red. "But maybe you 
mean just an imaginary trip.” 

"Fm not joking,” Uncle Lee said, solemnly. 
"And Fve already asked Daddy and Mother. 
They’re a bit dazed at the suddenness of it, but 
Fll win them over. They’ll agree to letting you 
go. You’ll see.” 

Thus it happened that two weeks later Peter 
and Nancy MacLaren, who had never before in 
their lives been away from the rambling white 
farmhouse, found themselves aboard the British 
steamship Majestic at Montreal, bound for Glas¬ 
gow, Scotland. As they walked up the gangplank 
behind Uncle Lee, they felt as though they were 
children in a fairy tale. But Uncle Lee was real 
enough and much more pleasant and agreeable 
as a guide than a genie would be. 

The boat, too, was very real, with its fresh 
white paint, its red velvet rugs and olive-green 
hangings and its great black ventilators. The 
stewards in their white trousers, blue coats and 
gold-corded caps, were young Scotchmen, but they 
were as kind as fairies. 

The ship was just like a big, floating hotel, with 



12 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



THE SHIP WAS JUST LIKE A BIG, FLOATING HOTEL, WITH 
DECKS FOR PORCHES 


decks for porches and the most amazing number 
of bedrooms. Only the bedrooms were not called 
bedrooms, but staterooms. There were offices and 
dining rooms and a big living room called a 
saloon; and there were all sorts of little halls 
and stairways to delight Peter and Nancy. Uncle 
Lee called the halls with stairs companionways. 

“IPs a whole block around just this one deck,” 
Peter guessed. “And there are as many people on 
board as there are in town.” 

“And it looks as if a whole town were down to 







THE MAGIC UNCLE 


13 


see the boat off,” Nancy exclaimed. “0 Peter, 
let’s wave, even if we don’t know anybody.” 

The gongs sounded, the band played, and the 
gangplank was drawn up. Lights came on every¬ 
where, for it was growing dusk and the boat 
would sail before dawn. Such a happy confusion 
of people! So much mail and other luggage! Best 
of all, Uncle Lee, in the midst of it all, trying 
to get them settled! 

A woman in a starchy uniform bustled up. 
Uncle Lee called her a stewardess, and she smiled 
as she led Nancy to her stateroom. It was a tiny 
room with a washbowl in one corner and a double¬ 
decked, boxlike bed. There was one round window 
which the stewardess said was a porthole. 

When Nancy was ready for bed, she climbed a 
little ladder into the boxlike bed and watched the 
blue water through the porthole. She thought she 
was too excited to sleep, but she must have been 
very tired. Besides, she knew that Peter and 
Uncle Lee were in the stateroom next to hers; 
and that made her feel quite safe. She said her 
prayers and slept. 



SIX MEALS A DAY AND A BARBER SHOP 


A GONG awoke her. It was morning. The 
stewardess, in a starchy white cap, put her 
head in to tell Nancy that her uncle and brother 
were waiting for her in the corridor. Nancy 
splashed in the washbowl and dressed quickly. 
Through the porthole she saw the blue water, and 
she knew that the boat was moving slowly and 
majestically down the St. Lawrence to the sea, the 
sea over which the gulls skimmed. 

The big dining room bustled pleasantly with 
breakfast guests and waiters. Besides the big 
table where sat the captain and his guests, there 
were many small tables. Although Nancy and 
Peter lived on a farm, they had never seen so 
many different kinds of food—not even at harvest 
time, when there were threshers to feed. It was 
confusing to see so many fruits and hot breads 
and chops and omelets. Uncle Lee did not seem 
confused, however. He ordered for Nancy and 
Peter, and he seemed to know just what they liked. 

On deck once more, Uncle Lee assigned them 
their deck chairs. He had made arrangements 
earlier in the morning. They were delighted to 
learn that they were to have the same deck chairs 
for the entire voyage. They sat down in them, 
feeling quite important as they drew the woolly 


14 


SIX MEALS A DAY AND A BARBER SHOP 


15 



Publishers Photo Service 


PETER AND NANCY LIKED BEST TO LIE IN THEIR DECK 
CHAIRS AND WATCH THE PASSENGERS 

steamer rugs over their knees. Uncle Lee had for¬ 
gotten nothing. He even brought them fascinating 
picture books to read. But just now they liked 
best to look out over the water and to watch the 
passengers strolling along the deck. 

At ten in the morning the deck stewards offered 
beef tea and wafers to the two children in the 
deck chairs, just as they did to everybody else. 

“Maybe it's a light lunch,” Peter guessed. “We 
had such a hearty breakfast.” 

Peter’s guess was wrong, for at noon Uncle 






16 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Lee appeared to escort his charges down to a de¬ 
licious lunch of several courses, during which he 
called their attention to the fertile valley down 
which the blue ribbon of a river wound to Quebec 
and to the sea. 

“Can you amuse yourselves this afternoon ?" 
Uncle Lee asked, as he rose from the table. 
“Would you like to watch the steerage passen¬ 
gers? I believe they're having a concert." 

Hanging over the rail, Nancy and Peter spent 
a good two hours watching the crowd of shabbily 
dressed men and women and children on the 
lower deck. A musician in a red and black velvet 
costume played an accordion, while the men and 
women sang and the children danced. 

“I wonder why we didn't go steerage," Peter 
grumbled. “It's so much fun down there." 

“Uncle says it's very crowded," Nancy offered, 
“and there are a great many in the staterooms. 
Besides, they don't have flowers on the tables nor 
such dainties to eat." 

“Speaking of eating," cried Peter, “do you see 
what I see?" 

It was evidently time for afternoon tea, and 
the stewards were passing tea, English bread and 
butter, sliced very thin, and little cakes. 

When, at seven, a ten-course dinner was served 
in the dining room, Peter said, “Well, for once, 
I've had enough meals." 

“Want to go down to the barber shop?" Uncle 
Lee asked, after they had walked three times 



SIX MEALS A DAY AND A BARBER SHOP 


17 


around the deck. “Children usually like it the best 
of any place on the ship.” 

“Why should they?” asked Nancy. 

“Barber shops are all right,” Peter conceded. 
“I suppose this is a very fine one.” 

Uncle Lee laughed outright. 

“IPs evident that you don't understand,” he 
said. “Have you forgotten: 

Hippity-hop to the barber shop, 

To buy a stick of candy; 

One for you and one for me, 

And one for Brother Sandy?” 

Nancy and Peter nodded vigorously as Uncle 
Lee recited. 

“Well, come along,” Uncle Lee invited. “The 
barber shop is the place where you buy candy on 
a ship.” 

The evening mists revealed Quebec, with its 
sharp cliffs and great walls rising from the rocky 
base. It did not seem strange that it should be 
called the Gibraltar of America. 

Suddenly a gong sounded. Peter grasped 
Nancy. 

“I wonder if we'll have to take to the life boats 
in this mist,” he cried. “Do you suppose an acci¬ 
dent has happened?” 

“There's a steward,” Nancy exclaimed. “Let's 
ask him.” 

The steward laughed heartily. 



18 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Nothing’s the matter, children,” he said. 
“Why, that’s just the call for supper.” 

It was Peter’s and Nancy’s turn to laugh. 

“Supper?” they exclaimed in one voice. 

“We’ve had five meals already!” Nancy de¬ 
clared. 

“Let’s see what the sixth is like, anyway,” Peter 
suggested; and seizing Nancy’s hand, drew her 
down the companion-way. 

Everybody was standing about in the dining 
saloon, laughing and chatting. They balanced cups 
on the plates in their hands, and some few 
munched apples. 

“It’s a stand-up meal, anyway!” Peter ex¬ 
claimed. “Guess they’ve all had so much they 
can’t sit down.” 

“Sh! Peter!” Nancy warned. “They’ll hear 
you! Oh, there’s Uncle Lee, eating a biscuit and 
some cheese. What shall we have?” 

“I think our stomachs would best have a rest,” 
Peter said, soberly. “But those apples look won¬ 
derful.” 

“They do indeed!” Nancy agreed. “They make 
me think of the apples in the orchard at home.” 

“Home!” Peter gulped, then smiled bravely at 
Nancy. 

She smiled as bravely back at him. 



STRANGE FISH AND A WALLED TOWN 


T HE engines of the Majestic throbbed like a 
human heart beating. The going was rough. 
Off the coast of Newfoundland the foghorn blew 
continuously, and it was bitter cold. 

“We’re in the iceberg region,” Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained. 

He had brought both Peter and Nancy a second 
blanket to wrap around themselves as they sat in 
their chairs on deck. Most of the passengers had 
gone below. 

Then the fog lifted, and Peter and Nancy saw 
what appeared to be a mountain of crystal-white 
snow, around whose base peacock-blue water 
dashed. A great whale, farther out, lifted its 
huge, black form and spouted water like an im¬ 
mense fountain. Then there were a great many 
playful-looking fish about five feet long, with 
dusky backs and white bellies, all swimming to¬ 
gether and leaping up, as though they were doing 
their daily dozen. Uncle Lee said it was a school 
of porpoises. Beyond the porpoises were miles 
and miles of waves, without a single bit of land. 

“The sky looks like a bowl,” Peter observed, 
“turned upside down over us.” 

“And it looks as though we had the world to 
ourselves,” Nancy responded, soberly. 


19 


20 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Publishers Photo Service 

THEY WATCHED THE FLIGHT OF COUNTLESS GULLS 
FOLLOWING PASSING VESSELS FOR FOOD 

But on deck there were activities of various 
kinds, with passengers of all ages walking about 
or playing games of different sorts. Nancy en¬ 
joyed playing ring toss with Peter, just as though 
she were at home. 

Later on during the day they passed a ship, 
the tip of its mast appearing first as a speck in 
the distance. Several days later they noticed 
drifting seaweed and watched the flight of count¬ 
less gulls following passing vessels for food. 

“There are so many of them, on the water and 






Ewing Galloway 

NANCY ENJOYED PLAYING RING TOSS 







22 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


in the air!” Nancy laughed with glee, think¬ 
ing of the gulls from the Great Lakes and of how 
they had made her wish for this journey. 

Two days later Peter and Nancy were staring 
through a light mist at what seemed to be a 
golden blur, but which Peter guessed was a 
beacon from a lighthouse. 

“The north shore of Ireland,” Uncle Lee re¬ 
vealed. “Our first sight of land!” 

Then the shore became visible to the children. 
Their eyes were almost as good as Uncle Lee’s 
binoculars. 

“I never before, in all my life,” Nancy ex¬ 
claimed, “saw such green grass!” 

“That’s because you haven’t seen grass for 
some time,” Peter declared. 

But Uncle Lee said, “No, that isn’t the reason. 
Ireland really is the emerald isle. Only there are 
many kinds of green besides emerald. Look at 
the bluish-green of the waves on the shore. That 
lush green of the land is usually found only in 
tropical forests. And notice the hills, green to 
their very crests. The walled town is London¬ 
derry, or plain Derry , if you choose to call it so. 
The old wall is still standing, although the town 
has spread beyond it. The tall spire belongs to 
the Cathedral. Too bad we aren’t going to land.” 

As Uncle Lee talked, the green shores already 
were receding. 





A NEW LAND AND SOME QUEER ENGLISH 


T O LOSE sight of Ireland would have made 
Nancy and Peter most unhappy had not they 
realized that Scotland was so near. 

A tiny boat puffed out to meet their big ship. 
“That little boat/’ Uncle Lee explained, “is a 
tug. IPs going to tow us into the docks of 
Glasgow.” 

“That little boat?” Peter asked. “I should 
think we'd get along better alone. We could puff 
up that little river.” 

“The Scotch are proud of the Clyde,” Uncle Lee 
informed Peter, “and they don't want the channel 
spoiled. Here we go!” 

“Peter, look at the hills!” Nancy cried. “There 
are little fields all over them, and they are such 
small, green fields, all separated by hedges. Im¬ 
agine planting hedges around our fields at home! 
There's the ruin of an old castle, Peter. Uncle 
Lee, see those small stone houses! That's my first 
sight of a thatched roof! Why, they're making 
hay over in that field; and the men and women 
and children are all working together. They're 
waving at us, Peter!” 

The children waved back at the workers, feel¬ 
ing as though they were being welcomed most 
heartily into bonnie Scotland. And now the masts 


23 


24 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 

THE SCOTCH ARE PROUD OF THE CLYDE 

of tall ships came in sight and Nancy exclaimed, 
in astonishment, “Why, there are actually miles 
and miles of ship-building yards. I suppose the 
Majestic was built here. ,, 

“Or in Belfast, perhaps,” said Peter. “There 
are shipyards there, too, you know.” 

Soon they were alongside a great liner in proc¬ 
ess of construction, and men climbed like flies all 
over its immense steel framework. The noise of 
hammering and riveting sounded pleasant to 
Peter’s ears. Near the liner was a beautiful 
launch, almost completed, and farther away were 
big and little boats, all being made ready for the 
sea. 

The wharves were reached and the gangplank 





A NEW LAND AND SOME QUEER ENGLISH 


25 


was swung out. What a hustling and bustling! 
What laughing and chattering! What excitement 
over luggage and wraps! And then Peter, with 
Nancy’s hand in his, followed Uncle Lee down 
into the customhouse to begin the great adventure 
of seeing new lands. 

Half an hour later Uncle Lee was at liberty. 
An Irish cabman in a tall silk hat put the three 
of them into a hack and drove them to the North 
British Station Hotel. 

Peter stared at the little boys who were dressed 
like himself, and he was glad indeed to see some 
in kilts and wearing Scotch plaid stockings. 
Nancy noticed that most of the little girls wore 
their hair down their backs as she used to wear 
hers before she had it bobbed. 

The street cars that passed had two decks. 

“Wouldn’t you like to ride on them?” Nancy 
nudged Peter. 

“We can ride while Uncle Lee tends to busi¬ 
ness,” Peter promised. “I’ll take care of you.” 

The magnificence of the hotel, its size, the 
number of servants in livery, and the great dining 
room, with its brilliant chandeliers, impressed 
Peter and Nancy; and they were amazed at the 
number of courses that made up the dinner. If 
all dinners lasted so long, there would be little 
time for sight-seeing. 

“All French cooking,” Uncle Lee offered, as 
he tasted the meat sauce. 

“Here’s something that isn’t French cooking, 



26 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Uncle Lee,” Peter remarked, when the waiter 
set a great plate of fresh strawberries in front 
of him. 

“The biggest strawberries I ever saw!” Nancy 
squealed. “They still have their hulls. We dip 
them in the thick cream in this little pitcher, I 
suppose, and then into that mound of powdered 
sugar. How good they are!” 

After Uncle Lee had finished his black coffee, 
he became very businesslike. 

“Pm going to run out and see a customer,” he 
announced. “Pll take you as far as MacDougal’s 
cottage—Mrs. MacDougal is an old friend of 
mine—and then you can return to the hotel by 
street car. How would that suit you?” 

“You are a ‘magic uncle/ ” Nancy decided. 
“That's just exactly what we'd like to do. I'd 
like nothing better than a ride on one of those 
double-decked, red-and-yellow street cars.” 

Uncle Lee took them in a cab out to the Mac¬ 
Dougal cottage, a small, plastered stone house 
with a thatched roof and an old-fashioned flower 
garden in the little plot at the side. Here Uncle 
Lee left them with the kind-faced Mrs. Mac¬ 
Dougal, asking her to send them back to the 
hotel in an hour. 

The little stone house was damp and chilly even 
in summer. But the floors were scrubbed until 
the boards were white. The curtains were as 
starchy as Mrs. MacDougal's big white apron, 
and the hearth had been swept perfectly clean. 




A NEW LAND AND SOME QUEER ENGLISH 


27 


They sat in the kitchen, which seemed to be 
the living room, too, and while Peter and Nancy 
munched crisp oatcakes and drank milk, their 
hostess asked all about the farm back in The 
States , as she called the United States of America. 

Never had an hour passed so quickly. Mrs. 
MacDougal offered to take her charges to the 
street car, but Peter was certain he could manage. 

The street car stopped at a platform, and Peter 
proudly reached in his pocket to be certain he had 
the pennies and farthings Uncle Lee had given 
him. There was also a shilling piece that looked 
like a silver quarter. 

The conductor began to talk rapidly to Peter. 
Peter wondered why they called conductors 
“guards.” This conductor, or guard, as he was 
called, seemed to be saying something in a for¬ 
eign language. Peter’s face was a study. So was 
Nancy’s. Here they were in an English-speaking 
country, and they could not understand the street 
car man. 

Peter talked fast in his excitement and tried 
to make motions to show where he wanted to go. 
Nancy talked faster, trying hard to make the 
man understand. The guard talked faster still. 

Finally a pleasant-faced man joined them. 
Peter told him where he wanted to go. The man 
told the guard. The guard grinned and scraped 
and bowed. He patted Nancy’s head. Poor Nancy 
was close to tears, and Peter had never before 
felt really worried. 



28 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Why couldn’t I understand?” Peter asked the 
kind stranger, after they had climbed up to a 
place beside him on the upper deck of the car. 

“He speaks cockney,” the stranger replied. “It’s 
English, all right, but it’s an English dialect.” 

In the lobby of their hotel Peter and Nancy sat 
down on a deep lounge beside a little Scotch boy 
and girl. Both children wore bright plaid clothes, 
from tarns to rolled stockings. Peter poked Nancy. 

“Wonder why that boy wears a whitewash 
brush!” he whispered. 

“If he could speak plain English, we might ask 
him,” Nancy suggested, trying not to giggle. 

The little Scotch girl gave Nancy a laughing 
glance out of her bright blue eyes. 

“We speak English,” she offered. “What makes 
you think we don’t?” 

Nancy and Peter were soon interrupting each 
other to tell of their street-car experience. 

“And now,” demanded Peter, “tell me why you 
wear that brush in front!” 

“Why, that’s my pouch!” declared the boy. 

“Your—what?” 

“My pouch!” the boy repeated. “It’s a sort of 
pocketbook. See? I can carry lots of things in it.” 

As he brought out several marbles, a knife, a 
piece of string and a handkerchief, Nancy began 
to laugh. 

“Well, your pouch and Peter’s pockets serve the 
same purpose,” she said. “Only your pouch is 
much prettier.” 



SHIPYARDS, LINENS AND LINOLEUM 


U NCLE Lee MacLaren was quoting a Scotch 
customer who had said, “Glasgow made the 
Clyde, and the Clyde made Glasgow.” 

He sat opposite Peter and Nancy in a compart¬ 
ment of a train bound for Edinburgh* 

“What did the man mean?” asked Peter, wear¬ 
ing a puzzled frown. 

“He meant,” Uncle Lee replied, “that the citi¬ 
zens of Glasgow dredged their river until its 
shallow channel became big enough for sea-going 
steamers to enter. The steamers entered with 
cargoes of sugar and cereals and cotton goods to 
exchange for products from Glasgow.” 

“The shipyards at Glasgow are wonderful!” 
Peter cried. “Uncle, they were building every¬ 
thing from yachts to ocean liners, weren't they?” 

“Yes. But shipbuilding isn't all there is to 
Glasgow's industry,” Uncle Lee returned. “Scot¬ 
land has great coal and iron mines. Glasgow 
makes iron and steel goods. It manufactures 
woolens and cottons, of course.” 

“How about linens?” Nancy asked. “I never 
in all my life saw such lovely linens as there are 
in the shops at Glasgow. You won't forget, will 
you, Uncle Lee, to let me buy that tablecloth with 
the thistle pattern for Mother?” 


29 


30 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“I won’t forget/’ Uncle Lee promised. “The 
linens, Nancy, come from Dunfermline, farther 
north. Its linen industry began years and years 
ago, when each family raised its own flax and 
wove its own linens on hand looms. Grandmother 
MacLaren can remember that time. After coal 
was discovered, the work was done in factories.” 

“Is that where linoleum is made, Uncle Lee?” 
Peter inquired. “What’s linoleum made of, any¬ 
way?” 

“Dunfermline makes it of linseed oil mixed 
with pulverized cork from Spain,” Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained. “Glasgow gets the cork for Dunfermline, 
and Dunfermline furnishes Glasgow with sails 
and ropes for her ships.” 

“Fair exchange!” declared Peter. 

They reached Edinburgh in the morning. The 
capital of Scotland seemed less than half as large 
as Glasgow. It was shrouded in gray mists. In 
fact, everything looked gray, as Uncle Lee led 
Peter and Nancy up the hill to view Edinburgh 
Castle. The castle, situated on a high rock, known 
as Castle Rock, overlooked a strip of level country 
to the east. The children felt certain that the 
Scotch soldiers must always have been ready for 
the enemy. Peter said he wouldn’t have liked to 
be marching down below when the early Scots 
threw down great rocks upon any one who at¬ 
tacked the castle. 

Uncle Lee led Peter and Nancy over the old 
moat, which was now a flower garden, and into the 



SHIPYARDS, LINENS AND LINOLEUM 


31 



EDINBURGH CASTLE IS SITUATED ON A HIGH ROCK, 
KNOWN AS CASTLE ROCK 

vaulted archway called the “Portcullis Gate.” 
Then they followed a winding road, which led 
shortly to another gateway and then to a plat¬ 
form. Nancy gazed out over the hilly city with 
its spires and crowded, tall houses; but Peter was 
interested in the old bomb battery and the famous 
old cannon, called Mons Meg. The ancient gun 
was inscribed with the name of Mons, Flanders, 
where it was supposed to have been made in the 
fifteenth century. 

When Nancy faced about, Uncle Lee was tell¬ 
ing Peter that the oldest building of the castle- 






32 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


fortress was the one on the very summit of the 
rock and that it was known as St. Margaret’s 
chapel. * Beyond the platform they gazed at the 
Half Moon Battery, from which royal salutes used 
to be fired and from which the time guns are 
still fired. It was built in the sixteenth century 
and was the most important defense of the castle. 
It commands a view of the city. 

Leaving Argyle Tower, as one end of the castle 
is called, they strolled into the Palace Yard, on 
one side of which was the Great Hall and on the 
other side the old palace. In the Crown Room 
they looked at sparkling jewels, a gorgeous crown, 
beautiful sceptres set with precious stones and 
marvelous swords. The crown was supposed to 
date back to Bruce. It was of pure gold, adorned 
with many marvelous gems. Peter was most inter¬ 
ested in the armor he saw in the arsenal, and both 
children gazed long and earnestly at the portraits 
in the picture gallery. Here the Scottish kings 
seemed to live again. 

Suddenly the sound of bagpipes and marching 
feet recalled the visitors sharply to the present. 
Out on the platform a Highland regiment was 
marching about, the plaid skirts of the soldiers 
swinging in beautiful rhythm. The bright plaids 
were the only spots of color in the grayness; and 
both Peter and Nancy regretted that the Scotch 
people no longer wore kilts and colorful plaids. 
At least, most of them didn’t. The bagpipers were 
as cheerful as the marching soldiers. The chil- 



SHIPYARDS, LINENS AND LINOLEUM 


33 



Publishers Photo Service 

THE HALF MOON BATTERY 

dren's eyes were sparkling, but they sparkled even 
more happily when Uncle Lee said, “How would 
you like to walk the Royal Mile?” 

“The Royal Mile?” they exclaimed in one voice. 

“The Royal Mile, or the King's Way, whichever 
you choose to call it. It's the street connecting the 
castle with Holyrood Palace down there,” Uncle 
Lee explained. “The Castle is on a rock that's 
almost perpendicular on three sides, but it does 
slope gradually down to Holyrood.” 

“It looks like a picture of a French chateau,” 
said Peter. “Who built it, Uncle Lee?” 






34 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Publishers Photo Service 

IN THE CROWN ROOM THEY LOOKED AT 
SPARKLING JEWELS 

“David the First built it,” Uncle Lee answered. 
“You see, it was like this: One day when King 
David was out hunting, he was thrown from his 
horse.. A wounded stag was about to attack and 
kill him. Suddenly a bright cross appeared, and 
the stag fled. So David built the Abbey of the 
Holy Cross, or Holyrood Abbey, in memory of this 
miracle. Queen Mary lived here and, although the 
abbey was burned by the English more than once, 
Mary’s rooms escaped the fire. The place has 
been rebuilt a number of times. Shall we start?” 









SHIPYARDS, LINENS AND LINOLEUM 


35 



Publishers Photo Service 


THE ROYAL MILE, OR THE KING’S WAY, CONNECTS 
EDINBURGH CASTLE WITH HOLYROOD PALACE 


To Nancy the tall old houses were as interesting 
as the castle, and she loved the quaint church of 
St. Giles, where so many Scottish heroes lie 
buried. The square central tower looked like an 
open crown, and Uncle Lee said that the old 
church had a strange history. It had been a 
church, a school, a court, a prison, and even a 
storehouse for the machinery of the gallows. But 
to-day it was just a pleasant old church with an 
atmosphere of peace and calm. 

Nancy looked back up the way they had come. 

“The Royal Mile!” she said, softly. “Doesn’t 





36 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


it seem strange, Peter, that such a short distance 
should have so much history?” 

“Wonder if that's where they got the idea that 
‘there's no royal road to learning,' ” Peter ob¬ 
served. “If one mile could be so hard for the early 
kings, imagine what . . 

“That's too far-fetched, Peter,” Nancy put in. 
“Whenever I think of The Royal Mile, I shall 
think of it as The King's Way because of the 
illustrious persons who have walked down it . . . 
To think that our feet should have trodden the 
same path!” 

“Well, maybe some day we'll be famous. Who 
knows?” Peter cried, a merry twinkle in his eye. 



THISTLES AND HEATHER 


H ALF an hour later, however, the atmosphere 
was one of gayety, for Peter and Nancy were 
strolling with Uncle Lee down Princes Street. It 
was the first time they had ever seen a one-sided 
street. Along one side were shops and cafes, pala¬ 
tial buildings, the children thought them, while 
the other side was left open for parks, beautiful 
public buildings, and statuary. The street was 
black with traffic, and it looked as though all 
Scotland were on parade. Uncle Lee stopped to 
chat with a business man who told him how much 
paper was manufactured in Edinburgh and what 
a wonderful publishing center it was. Nancy and 
Peter stopped in a bookshop, and together they 
chose a copy of Burns' poems for Father. It had 
a plaid silk cover. 

From the heights in Edinburgh, Peter and 
Nancy could see much of the southern uplands, 
where the granite-topped mountains were covered 
with purple heather. A long afternoon tramp 
over the grassy slopes fulfilled their desire to see 
the country close at hand. 

Cows grazed in the valleys, and sheep wan¬ 
dered over the drier hillsides. Everywhere there 
seemed to be peace and plenty. 

“I wish I could see an old droveroad.” Peter 


37 


38 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


sighed. “Remember Grandfather MacLaren tell¬ 
ing us about the droveroads, Nancy? The shep¬ 
herds used to drive their sheep clear to the ports. 
That’s why the trails they took were called drove- 
roads.” 

“The droveroads are all overgrown with 
heather now, but the sheep still graze on the hills. 
Everything is shipped by rail.” Uncle Lee sighed 
too. “Look ahead, Peter. That’s the Tweed River, 
and it’s in the midst of the sheep country.” 

“Whenever I put on a tweed suit, I’ll remember 
this trip,” Peter promised. 

“I never knew that tweed cloth was named 
after a river,” Nancy cried. “How very interest¬ 
ing!” 

A few days later it was the northern highlands 
toward which the children’s thoughts flew. They 
had heard a great deal about the highlands over 
which the Scottish chiefs once held sway, and 
Grandmother MacLaren was very proud of the 
peculiar plaid of her own clan. She had tried to 
teach Peter and Nancy some Gaelic words and 
she had told them many a sad story of the 
crofters, those frugal peasants who lived on tiny 
plots of land called crofts. 

“ ‘My heart’s in the Highlands,’ ” Peter sang, 
and Nancy joined in. 

Uncle Lee had promised that they were to see 
a crofter’s home in the Highlands. 

A week later they found themselves fishing for 
salmon and trout with Uncle Lee, in a swift, 



THISTLES AND HEATHER 


39 


beautiful mountain stream, they saw startled 
grouse rise beneath their feet, and even caught 
a glimpse of a red deer with her fawn. 

The crofters seemed to live on the bleakest hill¬ 
sides the children had ever seen. When Peter and 
Nancy beheld the tiny, barren farms that the poor 
Scotch peasants had rented, they recalled Grand¬ 
mother MacLaren’s stories anew. 

One afternoon Uncle Lee asked one of the 
crofters if he and Peter and Nancy might visit 
him. The crofter was very hospitable and left 
his potato hoeing to meet them in front of the 
stone hut so rudely thatched with heather. 

Tears came to the children’s eyes when they 
entered the hut, for right in the middle of the 
room burned a peat fire. There was only a hole 
in the roof to carry off the smoke, no chimney 
at all. A black kettle hung over the fire, and in 
it the porridge steamed. 

The crofter’s wife, who had been down in the 
valley to get peat, came back with a basket on 
her back and dumped the big pieces of peat onto 
a pile at the side of the house. She said they must 
dry enough to last through the cold weather. She 
had a smile and a welcome for Peter and Nancy, 
and she knitted while she visited. Later she even 
set out a lunch for them, of milk and bannock. 

Nancy stared at the flat, hard cakes, as big 
around as a dinner plate. She did not realize 
that bannock was oatmeal bread until she broke 
off a piece and tasted it. 



40 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Why, it was good! 

Nancy watched the flying fingers of the croft¬ 
er's wife thoughtfully. Did she have any little 
boys and girls? She answered Nancy's thoughts. 
She had two sons who were working in the ship¬ 
yards in Glasgow, and her daughter was employed 
as a servant in a large home in Edinburgh. The 
children would be home for the holidays; and 
they sent part of their wages to help their father 
and mother. Some day soon they would all have 
a much better house. 

Uncle Lee was as sober as the children on the 
way to their comfortable lodge. 

“What is peat, Uncle Lee?" Peter asked. 

“It's really the sort of turf that's found in 
bogs," Uncle Lee explained. “Each year when the 
plants dry up in the fall, they form a layer. The 
next spring new plants spring up. Then they 
dry. This goes on year after year until the layers 
become something like coal. The crofters cut the 
peat out in blocks. Of course the peat lowest 
down is the best. Though I'm not partial to peat 
as a fuel, if you should ask me!" 

“Why don't they use wood or coal?" Nancy 
asked. 

b “There aren't many trees on these barren hill¬ 
sides," Uncle Lee pointed out. “As for coal, it's 
too expensive." 

“I think we're very fortunate to have pleasant, 
big farms like ours," Nancy said, softly. “Don't 
you, Peter?" 





THISTLES AND HEATHER 


41 


Peter nodded soberly. 

“The thistle is surely a good flower for Scot¬ 
land,Uncle Lee said. “The flower is like the 
beauty of the mountains and streams, and the 
thorns are like the crofted hard lives.” 

“And the heather,” Nancy added, “is like their 
kindliness.” 

Peter nodded in agreement. He was very silent, 
for Peter. 

He climbed up over the hill, trudging ahead of 
Nancy and Uncle Lee. The little party passed 
other stone huts with heather-thatched roofs, and 
Nancy and Peter waved to children who greeted 
them. Uncle Lee whistled blithely, “Up with the 
bonnets o’ bonnie Dundee.” 

Nancy, her arms full of purple heather, cried 
gayly, “Don’t look so solemn, Peter. Remember 
that this is bonnie Scotland.” 

Peter’s smile was rather pensive. 

“It’s more than a bonnie Scotland,” he declared. 
“It’s a brave Scotland! I’m for it!” 



JAUNTING CARS AND PEAT BOGS 


R AIN beat against the window of the compart¬ 
ment in which Nancy, Peter and Uncle Lee 
traveled on their way from Queenstown to Cork, 
or rather from Cobh to Cork. The city had been 
known as Queenstown from 1849, when Queen 
Victoria first visited Ireland until the Irish Free 
State came into power. Then they changed the 
name of Queenstown to Cobh. Nancy liked the 
sound of Cobh. Although it was pronounced kob , 
the Irish tongues managed to impart more than 
a suggestion of brogue to the single syllable. The 
children pressed their noses against the glass, 
delighted with the green pastures and the little 
farms separated by neat hedges. The stone fences 
were overrun with ivy vines; and everywhere 
flowers bloomed in profusion, pink and red fox¬ 
glove, yellow iris, dandelion, lavender hyacinth 
and treelike red fuchsias. Later they would see 
the purple heather, the golden gorse and the white 
bog flowers. The wild pink roses made Nancy 
just a little bit homesick. 

“Cork’s the most Irish place in Ireland,” Uncle 
Lee spoke up. “To be really Irish, you must be 
born, they say, within sound of the Shandon bells. 
They are sweet-toned bells, eight in number, and 
they send their music out over Cork from the 


42 


JAUNTING CARS AND PEAT BOGS 


43 


tower in St. Ann’s church. The church may be 
seen across the roof tops from almost any hilly 
street in Cork. I’ll point it out to you.” 

“To be really Irish, Mrs. Murphy back home 
says, we must ride in a jaunting car,” Peter cried. 
“She says jaunting cars are the taxis of Ireland 
and that passengers sit back to back on the side 
seats and feel all the time as though they were 
going to slide off.” 

“Remember, too, Peter, that the Irish taxi 
drivers are called jarveys?” Nancy supplied as 
she stared out at the gray slate roofs with their 
red chimneys. 

They were nearing Cork. 

“I’d intended to take you to the hotel on a 
double-decker,” Uncle Lee teased. “But if you 
say jaunting car, jaunting car it shall be.” 

Half an hour later, sitting back to back in a 
jaunting car, Nancy and Peter held on for dear 
life. But the smiling, red-haired jarvey landed 
them safely at their hotel. 

It still rained. But the houses in rows that 
they had passed, with their open gates and flaunt¬ 
ing flowers, had looked hospitable, and the chil¬ 
dren felt their hearts warm toward the kindly, 
smiling people of this little island. Nancy and 
Peter knew, from what Uncle Lee had told them, 
that they were in the most fertile part of Ireland 
and that the countryside round about supplied 
eggs, butter, cheese, poultry and live stock to be 
shipped to England. 



44 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“No wonder it's called the Emerald Isle,” Peter 
exclaimed, when they drove out into the country 
the following morning, this time in an automobile 
that Uncle Lee had rented for the week. “Hay 
and grass! Shamrocks and rain! Grass is so 
plentiful that the jarvey says there's a cow in 
Ireland for every person, and a sheep for every 
family. It won't be hard for me to remember 
that hay is Ireland's chief crop.” 

“I want most of all to see the country ladies 
with their black, hooded cloaks and red petti¬ 
coats!” Nancy cried. “And I want to see a real 
Irish hut and a peat bog.” 

“You can't miss either in southwest Ireland,” 
Uncle Lee said. “I think I can produce several 
huts for you, Nancy, and any amount of peat.” 

As was usual with this kind uncle, his promise 
came true. That very day Nancy and Peter began 
to see little huts made of rocks from the hills and 
thatched very cleverly. The thatched roofs were 
held down by a net of grass ropes, weighted at 
the ends with rocks. 

“Potatoes and peat!” Peter exclaimed in de¬ 
light, as Uncle Lee led the children on a hike one 
pleasant afternoon. 

The peat cutting did look interesting. The men 
with turf spades, which they called slanes, would 
cut out the peat in large bricks and then stack 
it in loose piles to dry. When the water was 
dried out, Uncle Lee said there would be only 
half as much peat. 



JAUNTING CARS AND PEAT BOGS 


45 


“One of the men said that peat had other uses 
than just for fuel,” Peter offered. 

“Yes, it has. It's used for bedding for cattle 
and as a fertilizer, too,” Uncle Lee answered. 
“There's plenty of it in Ireland. The only trouble 
is too much rain! If the peat doesn't dry, it's 
hard on the peasants.” 

“They all seem sunny, in spite of the rain,” 
Nancy remarked, as she waved at some boys and 
girls who trudged along the road. They smiled 
and waved back. “Uncle, I believe the sun is 
coming out.” 

“Well, the sun ought to be good for potatoes 
as well as peat,” Peter exclaimed. “That's one 
thing they can thank America for—potatoes.” 

“Funny they're called Irish potatoes, then!” 
Nancy said. 

“Peter's right,” Uncle Lee put in. “Potatoes 
were first brought to Ireland by an Englishman, 
Sir Walter Raleigh. Of course he found them in 
Virginia.” 

“Must have been a long time ago,” Nancy 
guessed. 

“It was,” Uncle Lee explained. “It was 'way 
back in the seventeenth century.” 

“And they liked 'em so well, they called 'em 
Irish potatoes: is that it?” Peter asked. 

“It must be!” Uncle Lee agreed. 




Ewing Galloway 

“0 UNCLE LEE! PETER, LOOK! THE LAKES 
OF KILLARNEY!” 


SHAMROCKS AND RAIN 


A SHORT drive in Uncle Lee’s rented car 
brought the little party into a fairylike 
country. It was Nancy who recognized the water 
before her from pictures she had seen. 

“0 Uncle Lee! Peter, look! Over there in the 
distance! The lakes of Killarney! I know there 
are three lakes at Killarney, but this upper one, 


46 




SHAMROCKS AND RAIN 


47 


even though it is the smallest, is the most beauti¬ 
ful. Those low mountains rising from the shores 
are full of maidenhair ferns and arbutus, the 
little flower that grows on a trailing vine and 
smells so sweet. And just think of seeing ruins 
of old castles on the islands in the lakes! We 
should pass Ross Castle very soon.” 

“ ‘By Killarney’s lakes and rills,’ ” sang Peter. 
“Where do we go from here?” 

“To Dublin!” Uncle Lee replied and smiled. 
“To get there, we pass through the Golden Vale, 
if this car holds out. It’s called the Golden Vale 
because of its richness and its golden butter.” 

“I like golden butter,” Nancy declared. 

“And I know you’ll like Dublin,” Uncle Lee 
replied. “You will want to peep into the dun¬ 
geons in Dublin Castle, where famous Irishmen 
were held captive; and to say a prayer in the 
beautiful old church, St. Patrick’s Cathedral. In 
Trinity College you will want to look at the harp 
of Tara. Of course it may not be the real harp 
of Tara, you know. About all that’s left of the 
royal palace of Tara is a green hill on which 
stands a statue of St. Patrick; but we can imagine 
that the harp once hung on its magnificent walls. 
And best of all, in the Trinity library you are 
going to see what the Irish claim is the most 
beautiful book in the world.” 

“The most beautiful book in the world?” asked 
Peter. 

“Yes, the most beautiful book in the world,” 



48 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 

RUINS OF ROSS CASTLE ON LAKE KILLARNEY 

Uncle Lee repeated. “It is called the Book of 
Kells , and it’s a copy of the gospels written in 
Gaelic about the eighth century. The pictures 
are wonderful and every capital letter is illumin¬ 
ated, that is, decorated and colored, you know. 
This treasured book lies open upon a table cov¬ 
ered with glass. Each day a leaf is turned, there 
being the same number of leaves in the book 
as days in the year.” 

“We'll have no time for the horse show or the 
poplin mills or the biscuit factories or even the 
shipping yards!” Peter complained. 





SHAMROCKS AND RAIN 


49 


When the children arrived in Dublin, it was 
not the things in the busy city of which they had 
heard that pleased them so much as the odd things 
they learned from Mrs. Clarey, an Irish acquain¬ 
tance of Uncle Lee’s. 

Mrs. Clarey took the children out into the 
country to show them the Round Towers. No 
one knew who had built them, but Mrs. Clarey 
told strange stories of the great towers, with 
the entrances well up from the ground. There 
were no stairs in the towers and one had to climb 
from floor to floor by ladders. 

The mounds which Uncle Lee declared had 
once been Celtic forts built by Englishmen who 
crossed the channel in skin-covered boats in the 
early days, were made by fairy folk, Mrs. Clarey 
insisted. And since they were made by fairy 
folk, they must not be disturbed. Mrs. Clarey 
confided that there were parts of the Connemara 
coast where the peasants dressed little boys in 
red flannel petticoats in order to deceive the 
fairies. Fairies often stole little boys, but little 
girls were safe. How Peter laughed! But Nancy 
declared that she really believed in fairies. 

On their way back to Dublin, they passed a 
peasant cottage where one of the old type of 
milk carts of this district, with a little donkey be¬ 
tween the shafts, had just stopped to deliver 
milk. 

Peter and Nancy did not like to leave the 
Irish Free State and Mrs. Clarey; but Uncle 



50 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Publishers Photo Service 

AN OLD TYPE OF MILK CART HAD STOPPED BEFORE 
A PEASANT COTTAGE TO DELIVER MILK 

Lee’s business called him to northern Ireland 
and Belfast. Northern Ireland would not be so 
rainy. 

All about Belfast were flax fields with their 
small delicate flowers. A little later the seeds 
would appear, seeds which would yield linseed 
oil. The plants themselves, the children learned, 
furnish the flax of commerce from which linen is 
made. Whenever Nancy came near the pools where 
flax was retted, she held her nose. This retting, or 
steeping, was necessary to separate the fibers more 
easily. The pools were certainly not beautiful, 








SHAMROCKS AND RAIN 


51 


but Nancy did enjoy seeing the great fields cov¬ 
ered with yards and yards of linen bleaching in 
the sunlight. 

Peter was more interested in the shipbuilding 
than in Belfast’s linen industry. 

“Belfast builds the ic boats,” he told Nancy. 

“What are the ic boats?” she asked, laughing. 

“Boats that end in ic, like Majestic, Celtic and 
Teutonic. Glasgow builds the ia boats, like the 
Aquitania.” 

Uncle Lee took Peter and Nancy for a final 
day to the North Coast to see the Giant’s Cause¬ 
way. This was the queerest formation the chil¬ 
dren had ever seen. Ages ago one layer after 
another of lava had been poured out over this 
section of Ireland. When the lava cooled, it 
cracked into queer columns. Then the waves 
carried pieces of it away. 

Think of about forty thousand columns of 
stone in queer shapes! Peter and Nancy loved 
the names the Irish had given some of the queer 
rocks. There was the Giant’s Grandmother, the 
Giant’s Organ, Chimney Tops, the Honey Comb, 
the Gateway, and the Ladies’ Fan. Peter de¬ 
clared it would not be hard to think of names, 
and that the Giant’s Causeway must look quite 
terrible in a storm. 

In the quaint old town of Londonderry Peter 
and Nancy, with bouquets of shamrock and wild 
flowers, said good-by to Ireland. 

“Shamrocks and rain!” Nancy cried as they 



52 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


sailed away. “Peter, I shall never forget the 
little Emerald Isle, nor the shamrock. Mrs. 
Clarey says the three-parted leaf of the sham¬ 
rock is said to have been used by St. Patrick as 
a symbol of a trinity in unity. I wish we could 
stay on the island that St. Patrick loved.” 

Peter sighed. 

“Do you know,” he said, “Pd almost be will¬ 
ing to wear a red flannel petticoat, if Uncle Lee 
would leave us here.” 

“The fairies wouldn’t steal you, Peter,” Nancy 
teased. “You’ve always been lucky. Remember 
how many four-leaved clovers you used to find at 
home?” 

“Well,” sighed Peter, “I’d be perfectly satis¬ 
fied with three-leaved ones—if they were sham¬ 
rocks !” 



STR ATFORD-N OT-IN-THE-BOOKS 


N ANCY woke up in a queer old bed with 
four posts and a large canopy, and then 
snuggled down deeper into the feather bed on 
which she was sleeping. The sheets, of silky 
linen, smelled pleasantly of lavender. 

The plump landlady appeared in the doorway 
with a pitcher of hot milk, some hard rolls and 
orange marmalade in a little pottery jar, and 
said, “Here’s your breakfast, Miss.” 

Apparently Nancy was to eat her breakfast 
in bed, or at least in her room. She bathed 
quickly, using the pitcher and basin on the com¬ 
mode. After dressing, she carried the tray over 
to a table near the window. She poured out 
the hot milk and munched her rolls. It was 
fun eating alone in the big, comfortable room. 

This old inn, now known as the “Golden Lion,” 
had been called “Ye Peacocke Inn” in Shakes¬ 
peare’s time. That was in 1613, so the landlady 
had said. Shakespeare, the great English play¬ 
wright and poet, who had written “Romeo and 
Juliet,” “Hamlet” and “Macbeth” and “Julius 
Caesar,” plays Nancy would study when she 
reached High School, had lived right in this very 
town and had perhaps dined at this very inn. 
It would seem strange to be walking the streets 


53 


54 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


in this clean little country town of England. The 
streets were so wide and pleasant, and there 
were any number of half-timbered houses like 
the one that was Shakespeare's birthplace. She'd 
visit that historic old house this very morning. 
Quickly she spread one more roll with the good 
but bitter marmalade. 

There was a sudden knock on her door, and 
Uncle Lee came in, followed by Peter. 

“Well, little lady," Uncle Lee said, “I'm going 
to send you and Peter to play with the swans 
in the Avon while I go to see a friend. Would 
you like to feed them?" 

“I certainly would!" Nancy declared, as she 
pulled on her tarn. “I always fed the geese and 
chickens at home. But couldn't we see Shakes¬ 
peare's birthplace first?" 

“Uncle Lee and I saw it this morning before 
you were up," Peter bragged. “You'll like the 
garden in the rear best of all. All the flowers 
that are mentioned in any of his plays are 
planted there. I remember rue, primroses, rose¬ 
mary, and even holly. I'll take you through the 
house first, and then we'll walk out to the river 
and see the church." 

Ten minutes later Peter and Nancy were enter¬ 
ing the living room of Shakespeare's early home. 
To Nancy's amazement, she found the room stone- 
paved, with a built-in fireplace of antique type. 
There was a similar fireplace in the kitchen, the 
mantel of which was formed by a single oak 



STRATFORD-NOT-IN-THE-BOOKS 


55 



Ewing Galloway 

ALL THE FLOWERS MENTIONED IN SHAKESPEARE’S 
PLAYS ARE PLANTED IN THE GARDEN 


beam. On one side there was a small cupboard 
and on the other side there was space for a seat. 
Behind the kitchen were two small rooms, the 
wash-room and the pantry. 

Upstairs there was the principal bedroom, 
where Shakespeare was born, and the windows 
contained very old glass. At the back of this 
room was another large room, which had formerly 
been two bedrooms. Nancy was surprised at the 
simple, rather chilly house, and she was glad to 
step out into the garden with Peter. Shakespeare 






56 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



THE SIMPLE STONE-PAVED ROOM 

had bought another house, called New Place, 
where he lived after he was grown up; but 
the birthplace held the greater interest for the 
children. 

Peter led Nancy along Henley Street. The 
morning sunlight slanted down through lacy trees 
and shone on the flowers that bloomed in the 
window boxes of the pretty, old houses. 

The walk to the Avon did not seem long. It 
was Nancy who first caught sight of the spire 
among the trees and heard the rooks calling. 
They hurried on to the end of the street where 





STRATFORD-NOT-IN-THE-BOOKS 


57 


the venerable Holy Trinity Church came in sight. 
Some parts of this historic church are five cen¬ 
turies old, Uncle Lee had told them. It was 
set far back as if to make room for the moss- 
covered graves and discolored tombstones in its 
yard. Quietly Nancy and Peter stole down be¬ 
tween the rows of lime trees whose branches 
interlaced above them, and they whispered to¬ 
gether reverently as they saw how beautifully 
the many graves in the churchyard were decked 
with flowers. 

They hesitated at the heavy oaken door of 
the church. But Peter's interest was suddenly 
caught by something on the great, rough-hewn 
inner door. He lifted what appeared to be a 
great iron ring and asked, “Guess what this is, 
Nancy?” 

“It's just a queer old knocker,” Nancy replied. 
“That is certainly an odd old iron face, holding 
the ring in its mouth.” 

“This is a Sanctuary Ring!” Peter announced, 
importantly. “Uncle Lee told me all about it. 
There weren't fair courts or laws to protect 
people in Shakespeare's day, or in the days be¬ 
fore Shakespeare. And so the churches offered 
protection, or sanctuary , to people who needed 
it. If you fled for your life and reached a place 
of sanctuary, no one could touch you. Uncle 
Lee said that any person accused of a crime reach¬ 
ing this old door and grasping this ring was safe 
for thirty-seven days at least. In that time, he 




Publishers Photo Service 


THE SPIRE OF HOLY TRINITY CHURCH AMONG 
THE TREES 





STRATFORD-NOT-IN-THE-BOOKS 


59 


could often prove that he was innocent after all.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t live in those days,” Nancy 
said. “Let’s go in, Peter.” 

They stepped in through the rough wooden 
door, paused to see the baptismal font, then 
walked down the dim aisle. Just within the 
chancel rail and in front of the altar they saw 
the marble slab that marked the great play¬ 
wright’s grave. 

“Looks like your spelling, Nancy,” Peter teased, 
but Nancy nudged him to be quiet in church. 

Together they read the inscription: 

Good frend, for Jesus sake forbeare, 

To digg the dust encloased heare, 

Blest be ye man yt spares thes stones, 

But curst be he yt moves my bones. 

On the wall above the grave the children gazed 
earnestly at the bust of Shakespeare by Gerard 
Johnson. Critics said it had been spoiled by 
being painted, but it looked beautiful to the chil¬ 
dren. They were delighted most of all with the 
window erected by Americans, representing the 
“Seven Ages of Man,” from the babe to the aged 
one. The sunlight, sifting through the colored 
glass, gave reality to the figures. 

They left the dim church, hand in hand, as 
they walked past the tall elms that grew before 
the painted windows and strolled down to the 
bank of the silvery stream where forget-me-nots 
grew. The swans saw the children almost as 



60 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


soon as the children saw them, and Peter and 
Nancy soon found out that these graceful white 
birds with the arched necks were great pets, 
used to being fed by visitors. Peter reached in 
his pockets for the dry bread Uncle Lee had 
given him; soon he and Nancy were having a 
jolly time. 

“Do you suppose the swans fed here in Shake¬ 
speare's time?" Peter asked. 

“I shouldn't be surprised if they did," Nancy 
answered. “Surely there were lime trees here, 
and the rooks called in the reeds." 

“And Shakespeare really went to that church," 
Peter said, turning back to stare soberly at the 
beautiful old structure. 

“I felt very solemn in there," Nancy offered. 
“It's pleasant to get out in the sunlight again, 
isn't it? I feel sure that Shakespeare loved this 
little stream." 

Softly she began to sing: 

“ 'I know a bank whereon the wild thyme 
grows,' " and Peter joined in. 




Ewing Galloway 

ANNE HATHAWAY’S “COTTAGE” TURNED OUT TO BE 
A FINE OLD HOUSE 


ANNE HATHAWAY’S COTTAGE 

“T WONDER,” Peter mused, when the last crumb 
JL was gone, '‘if we could walk out to Anne 
Hathaway’s cottage alone. Shottery isn’t far, and 
Uncle Lee says that Shakespeare probably walked 
out there many times to see his sweetheart” 


61 




62 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“She became his wife, didn’t she, Peter?” asked 
Nancy. “I like love stories that end well. I’m 
willing to try, Peter. I think it would be wonder¬ 
ful to walk along the same country road that 
Shakespeare traveled.” 

Peter and Nancy wandered out on the coun¬ 
try lane leading to Shottery, picking white wild 
daisies and red poppies along the roadside. The 
walk seemed very short, with so much to see; 
and the cottage, although thatched like a peasant’s 
cottage, turned out to be a fine old house. It 
boasted a beautiful garden, and the heather was 
in bud but not in bloom. 

A dear old lady took them through the large 
rooms and permitted them to sit down on the 
settle in the comfortable old kitchen. They ex¬ 
amined the fireplace and bake oven, as well as 
the place in the wall where the family kept its 
well-cured bacon. 

Peter became interested in a wooden dish, on 
one side of which meat and salt could be served, 
which could then be turned over on the other 
side for pudding. Nancy could hardly pull him 
away to see Anne Hathaway’s bed. The bed 
was a four-poster with a canopy, and it was 
most elaborately carved. The caretaker declared 
that the same linen sheets were on the bed as 
in Anne’s time! And she laughed as she added 
that a great many housewives called them “ever¬ 
lasting” sheets. 

“But how could they last three hundred years 




NANCY AND PETER FOLLOWED THE COUNTRY LANE 
LEADING TO SHOTTERY 




64 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


and more?” asked Nancy. She looked with awe¬ 
some interest at the old coverings of the bed. 

“All Stratford believes them to be Anne's 
sheets,” Uncle Lee told her later. 

By the time Peter and Nancy had decided to 
start back to Stratford it was high noon and 
very warm. As they trudged along the sunny 
road, Nancy threw her withered flowers away 
and exclaimed, “Peter, we must be lost. It was 
never this far from Stratford to Shottery.” 

“I wish we had bicycles like that boy and 
girl!” Peter exclaimed, pointing to a pair of chil¬ 
dren cycling along the road. “Let's ask them 
if we're on the right road.” 

The boy and girl seemed glad to be hailed by 
two children who turned out to be Americans. 
They said they were Tom and Emily Ward, and 
they'd be glad to give Peter and Nancy MacLaren 
a lift into Stratford. 

Gratefully Peter and Nancy mounted behind 
the Ward children, and away they all went over 
the smooth road on the bicycles. 

Back in Stratford once more the Wards, with 
their passengers, brought their bicycles to a stop 
before a row of houses that looked like one con¬ 
tinuous building. There was no space at all 
between the houses, and single walls made all 
the division there was. Peter jumped down from 
Tom's bicycle, and Nancy stepped down from 
Emily's. 

“We live here,” Tom announced. 



ANNE HATHAWAY’S COTTAGE 


65 


“Won’t you come in?” Emily invited. “You 
look surprised. What’s the matter?” 

“How can you tell your own house?” Nancy 
asked. 

“And where’s your yard?” Peter inquired. 

“You must both come in and learn the answer 
to your questions,” Emily said hospitably, and 
drew Nancy in beside her. 

Nancy noticed that the number was the third 
door from the end of the block. Tom and Peter 
followed the girls. 

There was a rather dark, stuffy sitting room 
with a whatnot in the corner and a red plush 
album on a little center table. Emily led the 
way through the simple, dark bedrooms, the tiny 
kitchen and out the back door. 

And there, right in front of them, was a flower 
garden. Mrs. Ward, the mother of the English 
children, was cutting flowers. The little tea table 
under a big umbrella was set for lunch. Tom 
and Emily introduced their new friends, and 
Mrs. Ward made them welcome. 

“What a lovely yard!” Peter and Nancy ex¬ 
claimed at one and the same time. 

“We call it a court,” Tom explained. 

Mrs. Ward invited Peter and Nancy to stay 
for a simple lunch, but they knew they must 
get back to the inn. 

Uncle Lee was waiting. 

“Well, what did you two see this morning?” 
he asked. 



66 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Lots of things that weren't in our books," 
Nancy answered. 

“It will take all lunch time to tell half," Peter 
declared, happily. 

“Well, while you children have been enjoying 
yourselves, I haven't been idle," Uncle Lee spoke 
up. “Ever hear of the Harvard House?" 

“Heard of Harvard University at home," Peter 
answered. 

“Well, before we leave Stratford, I'm going to 
take you to see a fine old home known as the 
Harvard House," Uncle Lee promised. “It was in 
this house that John Harvard was born." 

“But Stratford's a long way from Cambridge," 
Nancy said. 

“That's true," Uncle Lee agreed. “But John 
Harvard went to America in 1637 and gave the 
college in New Towne—which is now Cambridge, 
Massachusetts—a fine library. In gratitude the 
trustees named the college after him." 

“To think," Peter exclaimed, “that the founder 
of our oldest American college lived in Shake¬ 
speare's town!" 



BIG BEN TELLS THE TIME 


I T WAS Sunday morning in London. The little 
party had arrived the night before in a rail¬ 
way carriage. Peter and Nancy had expected 
to feel their way, hand in hand with Uncle Lee, 
through a dense fog. They had heard so much 
about London fogs that they were surprised to 
see the sun shining brightly. 

Down the Strand, the important street that 
borders the Thames River, floated the chimes 
of Saint Paul's, the grand old cathedral. The 
music filled the air with silvery sound. 

The children had never seen such contrasts in 
riches and poverty as they now saw in the 
streets of London. At home they had never seen 
such splendid cars, nor people so richly dressed 
as those who rode in them, wearing silk hats 
and priceless furs. And there was no one so 
poor at home, they thought, as the cripples and 
old men and women who sold flowers on the 
corners. 

Nancy would say, “0 Uncle Lee, please let 
me buy some of those bright blue bachelor's but¬ 
tons from that poor little hunchback!" And then 
a few minutes later she would beg, “0 please, 
Uncle, can't I buy a few magnolias from that 
old, old woman? She looks hungry." 


67 


68 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Finally, when her hands were full of roses, 
daisies, bachelor's buttons and magnolias, Uncle 
Lee said, “Nancy, you couldn't possibly buy from 
every flower peddler in London. And if you gave 
a penny to every beggar, Uncle Lee couldn't take 
you home." 

“No, I suppose not," Nancy said, with a sad 
little smile. “Not even a magic uncle could do 
so much." 

“No, but I can show you something that seems 
like magic," Uncle Lee promised. “We'll take a 
trip on the underground train." 

Uncle Lee bought tickets at a booking stall. 
Then all three stepped into a commodious ele¬ 
vator, which in England is called a “lift." The 
descent was so smooth and slow that Nancy did 
not have to hold her breath, as she usually did 
in elevators at home. 

They stepped out upon a clean, wind-swept 
street far below the surface of the ground. It 
was lighted by street lamps, and there were tiny 
stands along the tracks, where papers and con¬ 
fectioneries were sold. 

If the lifts had been slow, the underground 
trains were the fastest vehicles on which the 
children had ever traveled. 

“How can they go so fast?" Peter asked with 
delight. 

“Because they do not have to look out for 
traffic," Uncle Lee explained. “They have a clear 
coast all the time down here." 



BIG BEN TELLS THE TIME 


69 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY, WHERE ARE BURIED KINGS 
AND MANY FAMOUS MEN 

Leaving the train, Peter and Nancy and Unde 
Lee went up and down steps and in lifts, in the 
marvelous under-the-earth tunnels, until at last 
they came to the surface at Trafalgar Square. 

From the Square it was just across the street 
to the National Gallery. 

“I want Peter to see Landseer’s picture, ‘Dig¬ 
nity and Impudence,’ ” Uncle Lee said. “The 
hound and the fox terrier will remind you of 
your own dogs at home. If I remember right, I 
saw a little print of the picture in your room.” 

Peter was delighted with the painting, as 
Uncle Lee had expected him to be. The lad 








70 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


went back several times to look at it again. The 
big hound looked so massive and solemn, and the 
little terrier so pert and saucy. 

When a great bell tolled out the noon hour, 
Uncle Lee spoke. 

“Big Ben is telling us it is time for lunch,” 
he said. 

“Big Ben?” Peter asked. “Why, that's the 
alarm clock at home.” 

Uncle Lee laughed. 

“Big Ben is the great bell in the clock tower 
of the Houses of Parliament,” he explained. 

Uncle Lee led the way and Nancy followed 
him out on the long, outer stairway. They had 
gone half a block talking about the pictures be¬ 
fore they noticed that Peter wasn't with them. 

Uncle Lee looked startled, but Nancy only 
laughed. When Nancy laughed, there were 
dimples in each of her cheeks. 

“Never mind, Uncle,” she said. “I just know 
Peter's gone back again to look at 'Dignity and 
Impudence.' ” 

And so it proved to be. Peter was found 
standing before the painting. He was so intent 
on the dogs that he hadn't noticed that Uncle 
Lee and Nancy had gone. 

They had lunch at the Cheshire Cheese, a 
famous old inn on Fleet Street. While they were 
eating, Uncle Lee told them that this old inn 
had been a favorite resort of many of the great 
writers of earlier days. 



BIG BEN TELLS THE TIME 


71 


Then they drove in a cab along the Victoria 
Embankment, the great avenue that borders the 
Thames River at this part. After a while they 
dismissed the driver and walked about. 

“What is that tall, thin spire?” Peter asked. 

“It is called 'Cleopatra’s Needle/ ” said Uncle 
Lee. “It is an obelisk, or four-sided pillar. It 
tapers toward the top, as you see. It was brought 
here from Egypt in a ship specially designed for 
the purpose. But there was a great storm and, 
in order to save the ship, the obelisk had to be 
thrown overboard. Afterwards it was recovered 
and placed here.” 

“Let’s go over and look at it,” said Peter. 
“What are those marks on it?” 

“That is writing,” said Uncle Lee. “It is 
what is called 'picture writing.’ That was the 
way the ancient Egyptians wrote.” 

Next they viewed the Parliament Buildings 
and Westminster Abbey from the banks of the 
Thames. 

“The Houses of Parliament are government 
buildings,” Uncle Lee explained. “ 'The House 
of Lords’ and 'The House of Commons,’ as they 
are called, are the law-making bodies for Eng¬ 
land, just as our Senate and House of Repre¬ 
sentatives are for us. The two together are 
called Parliament, as our two law-making bodies 
are called Congress.” 

“Is Westminster Abbey a church?” asked Peter. 

“Yes, a very great and famous one. In its 




Paul’s Photos 

THE GUARDS AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE WERE 
TALL AND HANDSOME 

































BIG BEN TELLS THE TIME 


73 


crypts, or vaults, are buried kings and great 
statesmen and many famous men.” 

At last, as they strolled along the embank¬ 
ment, they came to a vast, dingy stone build¬ 
ing that stood apart. Nancy was impressed 
with the immense black and gold gates and the 
guards standing before them. 

“What place is this?” she asked. 

“It is Buckingham Palace,” replied her uncle. 
“The London residence of the king and queen!” 

The guards were tall and handsome in their 
uniforms of blue trousers, red and gold corded 
coats and big fur caps, over a foot high. They 
carried guns and one stood on either side of 
each gate all about the palace. The little Eng¬ 
lish boy in the picture was given a guard's uni¬ 
form as a Christmas present, he told Peter. 

Just as the children and Uncle Lee appeared, 
the famous guard was being changed and the chil¬ 
dren were able to see this impressive ceremony. 

Inside the gates Nancy could see no grass nor 
shrubbery. The little girl was so interested that 
she stood staring at the tall guards, stationed 
like statues. She did not notice that Uncle Lee 
and Peter had strolled on, until they came back 
for her. 

“Well, I think we'd better go back to the hotel 
before I lose both of you at once,” Uncle Lee said. 

They crossed the street. A tall traffic officer 
said, as he signaled to them, “Thank you! Step 
this way, please. Thank you!” 



74 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Publishers Photo Service 

THE CHILDREN WERE ABLE TO SEE THE 
CHANGING OF THE GUARD 

“Why did he say ‘thank you’ to us?” asked 
Peter. “At home we say ‘thank you' to the 
policeman when he directs us.” 

Uncle Lee laughed. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “You will notice those dif¬ 
ferences in the manners of police officers here 
and at home more, as you go about in London. 
And they are called ‘bobbies/ here.” 

“Bobbies!” cried Peter, laughing gaily at the 
idea of speaking in such a familiar way of police¬ 
men. 





BIG BEN TELLS THE TIME 


75 


Nancy's color was high, and Peter's eyes shone 
with excitement. They were in the greatest city 
in the world, a strange wonderful city, where 
elevators were ‘lifts' and where policemen treated 
one like kings and queens. 

It was the city where Big Ben tells the time 
so that it can be heard for miles and miles. 

“Remember, Peter," Nancy asked, “the time we 
heard Big Ben over the radio?" 

“I certainly do," Peter answered. “I never ex¬ 
pected to hear those chimes in any other way. 
And I certainly never expected to see Big Ben 
in person!” 



BOATS, CHEESES AND WINDMILLS 


U NCLE LEE and Nancy leaned back to rest 
in the railway carriage as it left London 
for Folkestone. Peter was wide awake. He was 
more anxious to see Holland than any other 
country. Folkestone, that English seaport town 
with the spacious harbor, was ready and waiting 
for its tidal steamers to sail, just as Uncle Lee 
had said it would be. 

It was dark, and the boat was crowded. The 
children heard German, French and Dutch 
spoken, but very little English. The waves beat 
high, spraying the decks, so that Nancy's dress 
was dampened and Peter's stockings soaked. 
Uncle Lee sent both his charges below to their 
staterooms. Nancy watched the sailors as they 
closed the portholes, and she shivered as the 
green waves, with their crests of white foam, 
beat against the glass. Peter said good night to 
Nancy at the door of her stateroom and assured 
her that she needn't worry about being seasick. 
The steward said that children never did get 
seasick. 

Nancy went to sleep to the pounding of the 
ship's engines. It seemed as though the ship had 
just embarked when a stewardess called her. It 
was, in fact, just dawn of the following day. 


76 


BOATS, CHEESES AND WINDMILLS 


77 



Ewing Galloway 

THE DELFTSHAVEN HARBOR AT ROTTERDAM WAS 
FULL OF FISHING BOATS 


Such a short journey on the North Sea! Nancy 
could hear Peter grumbling sleepily, and she 
almost fell asleep again while lacing her own 
oxfords. Uncle Lee and Peter led her up on 
deck, and then she felt repaid for her early 
rising. 

The sun was barely up, and a golden mist 
filled the air. The Delftshaven harbor at Rotter¬ 
dam was full of fishing boats. Off in the dis¬ 
tance were sailing vessels. Through the dim 
morning light Peter and Nancy caught sight of 













Publishers Photo Service 

THEY LOOKED OUT UPON LOW FIELDS, CANALS AND ENDLESS WINDMILLS 






BOATS, CHEESES AND WINDMILLS 


79 


a great city and there was one strange thing 
about it. They rubbed their eyes at the sight of 
countless windmills outlined against the sky, in 
the low, fertile country stretching out before 
them. 

“If you look at those ships and barges, you’ll 
get an idea of what business one little country 
can do,” Uncle Lee said, as he stood between the 
two children at the rail. “Alkmaar is the Dutch 
town of the famous cheese market. The cheeses 
arrive from the nearby town by barge and are 
painted with a coat of red preservative. They’re 
called Edam cheeses, and I imagine a good many 
are being shipped. Of course some of the milk 
is used in powdered milk, condensed milk and 
like products. When you see the number of 
cows, you’ll not be surprised at the milk prod¬ 
ucts. These ships carry them all over the world.” 

“How about bulbs, Uncle?” Nancy asked. 
“Those tulips Mother planted last spring came 
from Holland, she said. Do you suppose some 
of those ships are carrying away tulip bulbs?” 

“Yes, indeed. Flower bulbs are raised mostly 
around the little village of Aalsmeer. You’d be 
amazed at the hyacinths, the tulips, the lilies of 
the valley and even the hothouse roses that may 
be shipped as far as New York. Aalsmeer raises 
ornamental trees, too. Sometimes they are cut 
to represent bears, vases, or whatever you may 
fancy. And if you want hothouse fruits, you have 
only to go to the country around The Hague, 



80 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


the capital, as you know, of Holland. The ships 
unloading are bringing cheap coal, cereals, spices, 
rubber and other necessities. Well, here we go. 
We land here and take the train to The Hague.” 

Half an hour later the sunlight shone out a 
golden yellow, and from the compartment of a 
train Peter and Nancy and Uncle Lee looked out 
upon the low fields, the many canals, the small, 
neat stone cottages and the endless windmills. 
Once the train passed a field of purple-blue hya¬ 
cinths that perfumed the whole country round 
about. There were thousands and thousands of 
tulips and scarlet geraniums in another plot. 
Everywhere were the famous Holstein dairy cows 
of Holland, black and white and sometimes red 
and white. To Peter and Nancy, it was like be¬ 
ing home again on their own farm, for Mr. Mac- 
Laren raised Holstein or Dutch cows, too. 

“We’ll have to tell Colantha Johanna, our best 
Holstein cow, that we saw her home,” Nancy 
declared. 

Peter exclaimed at the beautiful, cream-col¬ 
ored horses and pure-white sheep. 

“No skinny horses here!” he cried. “They’re 
all fat and sleek and have thick necks. And such 
intelligent eyes! I felt so sorry for the horses 
in London.” 

Three boys of different ages were carrying toy 
boats to the water, for sailing toy boats is a 
favorite pastime of Dutch children. 

Uncle Lee was as hungry for breakfast as were 



BOATS, CHEESES AND WINDMILLS 


81 



Ewing Galloway 

“SAILING TOY BOATS IS A FAVORITE PASTIME OF 
DUTCH CHILDREN” 

the children, and the breakfast on the train in 
the early morning was one they long remem¬ 
bered. All the English breakfasts had been what 
Uncle Lee called “continental,” just hard rolls 
and bitter marmalade, with a hot drink. But if 
breakfasts on the continent were supposed to be 
so simple, the Dutch breakfast was quite an 
exception. There were delicious berries, fluffy 
hot rolls, thick yellow cream that had to be 
“spooned,” sweet butter, and fresh eggs with 
ham. Uncle Lee said he was enjoying his first 





82 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


cup of good coffee since leaving the United 
States. The coffee did smell good. 

“This coffee,” he said, “probably came from 
the Dutch colonies in East Indies. Do you know, 
Peter, that the Dutch colonies are sixty times the 
size of the mother country? Maybe your cocoa 
came from there.” 

“IPs good, anyway,” Nancy said. “As good as 
your coffee.” 

Peter was thoughtful as the train slowed down 
at a station. He watched a big fat goose with her 
family of many plump, lively goslings. 

“Uncle Lee,” he spoke up,” I think I can un¬ 
derstand now how the Dutch colonies can be sixty 
times the size of the Mother country and still be 
contented.” 

“How, Peter?” Uncle Lee asked, with an 
amused smile. 

“That old goose has a big family, and every 
little gosling is happy,” Peter offered. 

“That's because the old goose is a good mother,” 
Nancy explained. 

“Right you are, children!” Uncle Lee agreed. 
“Holland's a good mother country. Her colonies 
should be—and are—both happy and fortunate.” 



SHOE LEATHER AND WOOD 


T HE HAGUE struck the children first of all 
as being very clean. Women wearing wooden 
shoes, full blue dresses and white caps, were out 
scrubbing the sidewalks. 

Neither the children nor Uncle Lee were will¬ 
ing to spend very much time in the hotel. They 
went for a walk in this modern-looking city. 
They gazed long and earnestly at the simple, 
almost severe-looking parliament houses. Here, 
too, they paused before the great hall where the 
Peace Conferences are held, and they fervently 
hoped that soon there would be universal “peace 
on earth and good will toward men.” 

Peter found the old Spanish prison absorb¬ 
ingly interesting. Nancy shuddered at the dun¬ 
geons, the cruel irons, the axes and the blocks. 
Here the Spanish had mistreated and even tor¬ 
tured Dutch prisoners. 

Nancy was glad to drag Peter away to see 
Holbein's paintings in the famous picture gal¬ 
lery. Peter liked the pictures, too, and he called 
Nancy's attention to the fact that, in a Holbein 
painting, one could see every hair in a man's 
beard. Uncle Lee was most absorbed in Rem¬ 
brandt's “Lesson in Anatomy,” but again Nancy 
shivered. She was glad to be out in the sunlight 


83 


84 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


walking along a canal and learning the story of 
how the Netherlands had reclaimed the rich land 
from the sea by building dikes and pumping out 
the sea by the aid of their windmills. Uncle Lee 
said the Dutch were still saving more land from 
the ocean. It would take many years, he ex¬ 
plained, but some day the whole Zuider Zee, a 
landlocked inlet which covers about two thou¬ 
sand square miles, would be fertile farm land. 

“Cities aren't so important here, are they, 
Uncle?" Nancy asked. 

“Cities are always important," Uncle Lee an¬ 
swered. “Amsterdam, the biggest city in this 
little kingdom, has many industries, including 
the diamond industry. Although many of the 
people travel by boat on the canals, the city is 
very modern, and the school children wear 
leather shoes instead of wooden ones. Around 
the southern cities of Haarlem and Leyden you'll 
find the most wonderful flowers. And when the 
bulb season is over, the Dutch farmers grow 
delicate vegetables of fine flavor, such as cab¬ 
bage, cauliflower, cucumbers and onions. If you 
were a little Dutch girl, you'd have a lot of 
weeding to do." 

“I always help with the weeding at home," 
Nancy said. “And so does Peter. Uncle, when 
are we going to see a fishing village? It's as 
hard to get a sight of wooden shoes here as to 
see kilts in Scotland." 

Uncle Lee laughed and hailed a cab. The chil- 





SHOE LEATHER AND WOOD 


85 



THE LITTLE HOUSES WERE BUILT CLOSE UPON 
THE CANAL 

dren got in, hilariously excited. They knew they 
were on their way to a country village, and they 
were delighted when at last they alighted on a 
stone street of narrow gabled little houses, built 
close upon the canal. And then they came upon 
a gay group of girls sitting on the dike with their 
knitting, all wearing pointed caps, cotton dresses 
and wooden shoes. 

Every one in the peasant district wore wooden 
shoes, coarse blue gowns, tightly belted, and 
queer, starched caps. When the little Dutch chil- 





86 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 

A GAY GROUP OF GIRLS SITTING ON THE DIKE 
WITH THEIR KNITTING 


dren first caught sight of Peter and Nancy, some 
of them ran into their neat, stone houses, but 
others hid behind the gates where they could 
peek out. They were shy but curious. 

Nancy and Peter, at Uncle Lee’s suggestion, 
offered them some coins; and soon wooden shoes 
were clattering over the cobblestones. Every 
child looked plump and had red cheeks and bright 
blue eyes, like pieces of sky. 

From the Island of Marken a little lad, walk¬ 
ing with his mother and two little sisters, smiled 






Publishers Photo Service 

A LITTLE LAD, WALKING WITH HIS MOTHER AND 
SISTERS, SMILED AT PETER 














88 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


at Peter in a friendly way. Peter kept looking 
at the wooden shoes of the boy who was about his 
size; and the Dutch boy knelt down and felt of 
Peter’s shoes. They sat down on a stoop, while 
Nancy played with the little children and Uncle 
Lee visited in Dutch with a pleasant fisherman. 

Reluctantly Peter and Nancy followed Uncle 
Lee to the waiting cab. 

“0 Peter,” Nancy sighed, “how I wish we might 
stay!” Then, “0 Peter, how funny you walk! 
Why, you’ve got on wooden shoes! Where are 
yours?” 

“I traded with the Dutch boy, ’ Peter ex¬ 
plained. “He liked mine, and I liked his. It’s 
lots of fun to walk in these.” 

Uncle Lee did not laugh with Nancy. 

“Good American shoes are hard to find on this 
side,” he said, “and they’re expensive. However, 
if Peter’s pleased, I won’t scold.” 

The cabman touched his horses, and they drove 
along the sea-scented beach of Scheveningen, 
the fashionable summer resort of Holland; but 
Peter’s and Nancy’s thoughts were only of the 
little fishing village and its pretty, red-cheeked, 
blue-eyed children. 




Ewing Galloway 

THE GONDOLIER STOOD AT THE BACK OF THE BOAT 


THE CITY OF WATER AND DOVES 

N ANCY and Peter, with Uncle Lee MacLaren, 
found themselves one day in the midst of 
shouting hotel men in the crowded station at 
Venice. Nancy listened to their musical voices 
and the soft, sliding words with pleasure, as the 
men tried to persuade each new group of tour¬ 
ists to patronize their special hotels. Peter peered 
anxiously ahead. He was quite excited. 


89 






90 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Look, Nancy!” he exclaimed, as they came out 
of the station onto a stone sidewalk. “We’re 
right on a street of water.” 

“0 Uncle Lee,” Nancy called, “how are we ever 
going to get to our hotel? Do we go by boat?” 

Uncle Lee nodded as he helped her into a long, 
narrow, flat-bottomed boat that was high-peaked 
at both ends. He called it a gondola; and the 
boatman who ran it he called a gondolier . Uncle 
Lee settled Nancy comfortably on a pile of 
cushions, then seated himself opposite her with 
Peter. Peter leaned against the comfortable back 
and threw his arms wide in a gesture of perfect 
content. Nancy could tell that he felt like a 
little king. Well, she felt like a queen. 

“Well,” said Peter, “we’ve gone to hotels with 
Uncle Lee in automobiles, double-decked street 
cars and cabs and even in one of those low bug¬ 
gies with the driver on a high seat, they called 
’em victorias, I believe, but this is the first time, 
Nancy, that we have gone in a boat.” 

“It’s surely a lovely boat,” Nancy declared, 
turning about to look at the gondolier, who 
smiled and said something pleasant in Italian. 

The gondolier stood upon the back of the boat, 
expertly guiding it with a single, long oar. 
Through canal after canal the boat gently glided. 
The canals, for the most part, were so narrow 
that the gondolier could have touched the houses 
on either side of the street of water with his 
long oar. 



THE CITY OF WATER AND DOVES 


91 


“Why does the city have streets of water?” 
Nancy asked. 

“It’s like the canals in Holland, 1 ” Peter put in. 

“Not exactly,” Uncle Lee explained. “Venice 
had little space on which to build, for the city 
is made up of many little islands. The Grand 
Canal runs like a capital S between them, and 
there are over a hundred smaller canals, with 
many bridges.” 

Venice looked to be grimy and dirty, but Uncle 
Lee told the children it would appear quite dif¬ 
ferent at night. 

“For once in your young lives,” he declared, 
“Pm going to spoil you by letting you stay up. 
You’ll see what the magic of the night can do 
to white marble. That red marble is from near 
Verona, and it’s probably the finest natural red 
marble you will ever see. Most of these buildings 
along here are public buildings or palaces.” 

The children were more interested in the gon¬ 
dolas than in the buildings, however. As the 
boat neared the hotel Nancy was attracted by 
a young gondolier who sang sweetly as he clev¬ 
erly managed a big, black gondola decorated 
with golden birds on the sides and high silver 
ornaments in front and back. Peter was inter¬ 
ested in a cargo of fruits carried in a faded old 
boat. 



THE GRAND CANAL AND ST. MARK'S 


N ANCY and Peter could hardly wait until eve¬ 
ning, for Uncle Lee insisted that they take a 
nap in the afternoon, if they were to stay up 
late. But even the longest day comes to an end, 
and when night came and the lights began to 
sparkle along the Grand Canal, Peter and Nancy 
settled down on the cushions of their beautiful 
gondola with Uncle Lee. 

As the boat floated along, it seemed to the 
children as though they were in an enchanted 
city of white marble, vivid colors and lights. 
Songs floated out, and boats lit with exquisitely 
colored lanterns drifted by. They glided under 
the Bridge of Sighs, that beautiful bridge con¬ 
necting the State prison with the doge’s , or 
ruler’s palace. Uncle Lee said that it was called 
the Bridge of Sighs because prisoners who 
crossed over it to be judged in the palace often 
returned to the prison to die. However, he added 
that there had never been very many important 
prisoners. Most of the tales about the Bridge 
of Sighs were just stories. 

In the white starlight the gondola entered the 
Grand Canal, alive with the beauty of music and 
lights. Sometimes the children saw little tables 
set up in the boats and the occupants of the 


92 


THE GRAND CANAL AND ST. MARK’S 


93 


gondolas dining in the open. Sometimes a satin 
canopy half hid the soft richness of an Italian 
signorina’s dress. It was Uncle Lee who told the 
children than an Italian young woman was called 
a signorina. 

Nancy would have liked to float on quietly 
all evening, but Peter was growing restless. He 
glanced up at the lazy-appearing gondolier in 
envy. 

‘‘Wish I could run a gondola,” he said. “I can 
row a rowboat and paddle a canoe. Bet I could 
run a gondola. Ask him to let me try, Uncle Lee. 
Please!” 

The gondolier handed Peter his long oar at 
Uncle Lee’s request, but seated himself at Peter’s 
feet. Peter almost slid off the boat at first, but 
the gondolier caught him, grinning as he did so. 
It wasn’t easy to steer the unwieldly, big boat, 
and Peter soon looked tired. When, at last, how¬ 
ever, he ran against a gold-encrusted bird on the 
front of another gondola, Nancy held her hands 
over her ears. The two gondoliers were quar¬ 
reling, and their voices were no longer soft and 
musical. 

Uncle Lee interfered. He gave the other gon¬ 
dolier some coins and took the oar from Peter. 

“Wait until you get home, Peter,” he advised. 
“Then fix up an old scow and run it on your 
pond.” 

The next morning Uncle Lee and the two chil¬ 
dren walked across the Rialto Bridge. Here most 



94 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 

ST. MARK’S CATHEDRAL AND THE DOVES 
THAT FEED THERE 


of the great business of Venice had once been 
conducted. Leaving the Rialto they crossed other 
bridges. “It’s up one bridge and down another,” 
Nancy said to Uncle Lee, “instead of up one street 
and down another.” 

“I’m going to show you the only place that 
looks like solid land in Venice,” Uncle Lee prom¬ 
ised at lunch. “Saint Mark's Square! Saint 
Mark's Square was formerly a field with a canal 
running through it. The canal was filled up 
and drained, and a church was built that has 











THE GRAND CANAL AND ST. MARK’S 


95 


been described as the only church that can be 
neither described nor forgotten.” 

Nancy and Peter could not take their eyes 
away from the Cathedral when they saw it. 
There were charming shops on one side of the 
square and the doge's palace, with its fairylike 
balconies, at their right, but directly in front of 
them was Saint Mark's. They were amazed at 
the exquisite coloring and fragile carving. Peter 
called Nancy's attention to the wonderful bronze 
horses which decorated one end of the exterior 
of the Cathedral, but neither Peter nor Nancy 
spoke when Uncle Lee took them inside to show 
them the altarpiece. It was a marvelous work 
in gold, jewels and enamels. This picture of 
Christ attended by angels and prophets was the 
most exquisite work in precious metals and price¬ 
less jewels that the children were ever to see. 
They gazed at it reverently. 

They looked at the winged lion of Saint Mark's 
upon a column, and then Uncle Lee led them over 
to the middle of the Square. 

All of a sudden they were surrounded by doves. 
Nancy fed them with the grain that Uncle Lee 
handed her. They alighted on her shoulders and 
hands, and one even sat on Peter's head. 

“Whenever I see the doves at home,” said 
Nancy, her eyes shining, “I shall think of these.” 



FOREIGN WORDS AND LEMON SQUASH 
7TER a hot, dusty ride along the cool-look- 



Jr. l ing, blue Tyrrhenian Sea, Nancy and Peter 
arrived in Pisa as the sun went down in flaming 
red. It was like a fire dying down, leaving hot 
embers. When Uncle Lee had told the children 
that they were going north to Pisa and that it 
was located on the Arno River, they had natu¬ 
rally looked forward to coolness and freshness. 
The fleas in Rome had been bad enough, but the 
mosquitoes here were worse. 

“I’ve never read much about fleas in the stories 
of Italy, 1 ” Peter exclaimed ruefully. 

“Pm just one mass of bites,” Nancy said, as 
she rubbed her back against the seat in the rail¬ 
way carriage. “There’s a row of bites where 
my sleeves end, and I can always tell whether 
I’ve worn a round- or square-necked dress. I 
suppose it’s the heat and sand and the water 
that attract the insects.” 

“Yes,” Peter agreed, “and the fruit and the 
dirt and nice plump people like us.” 

Uncle Lee laughed. 

“Shake your clothes over the bath tub before 
you go to bed,” he instructed, “and I’ll see that 
you get a mosquito netting canopy for your 
beds to-night.” 


96 


FOREIGN WORDS AND LEMON SQUASH 


97 


Uncle Lee led the children directly to the din¬ 
ing room at the little hotel. Jonni, a dapper 
Italian waiter with a waxed mustache and a 
brilliant smile, saw to it that the little party was 
served the finest of spaghetti with truffles, which 
Uncle Lee said were a queer sort of mushroom 
found underground. For dessert they enjoyed an 
odd pudding that Nancy named “frozen cake.” 

“Grazia!” she said to the attendant, and he 
smiled his dazzling smile. “Did I say ‘Thank 
you’ correctly, Uncle? And did I pronounce it 
properly ? Grat-tsee-ah ? ” 

“Oh, it’s easy enough to say ‘Thank you' in 
Italian,” Peter put in. “But I can go to a shop 
and say ‘QuantoV which means ‘How much?’ ” 
“And when they tell him how much it is,” 
said Uncle Lee, “he can say ‘Tropa cava ' or 
‘Too much!’ like a regular Scotchman. Remem¬ 
ber, Peter, to pronounce it trope-ah, car-ah , only 
not so broad.” 

“I like Italy,” Nancy said, softly, “even if it 
is hot and full of fleas and mosquitoes. I like 
the flowers and the fruits, especially the big, 
sweet lemons. I like the mountains and the sea 
and the walls of the old cities. There's a five 
mile wall around Pisa, isn't there, Uncle Lee? 
And there are several bridges across the Arno, 
aren't there? There would have to be, because 
it flows right through the city.” 

“Well, I don't feel like walking around walls 
or across bridges,” Peter said, wearily. “I'd like 



98 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


a glass of lemonade. Uncle Lee, may I ask the 
waiter for one? They all speak English and 
French and German, as well as Italian. Jonni 
does anyway, and he can understand my English 
much better than my Italian.” 

“Go ahead,” Uncle Lee said, with a twinkle 
in his eye. 

Peter spoke to the hovering Jonni. 

“A glass of lemonade, please.” 

“Om, Monsieur” 

Peter felt quite grown up to be addressed in 
French, but he pretended not to be impressed. 

“Wonder why they pronounce it ‘We’ when 
it’s spelled o u i and means ‘Yes/ ” he grumbled. 
“And ‘Mister’ sounds like ‘Must see her,” only 
kind of mushy.” 

The waiter brought a bottle, pried off the 
metal top, and poured the foaming liquid into 
a glass. Peter’s face was a study. Nancy’s eyes 
were big with surprise. 

“This isn’t lemonade,” stammered Peter as 
he tasted the fizzy drink. 

“Of course it is,” Uncle Lee insisted. “Doesn’t 
it say so on the label on the bottle? Attendant! 
Some lemon squash, please!” 

“Lemon squash!” cried Nancy and clapped her 
hands. “Lemon squash! My, but that sounds 
like a funny vegetable to eat after you’ve had 
your dessert.” 

The waiter soon appeared carrying a bowl 
of chopped ice, crushed lemons swimming in their 



FOREIGN WORDS AND LEMON SQUASH 


99 


own juice, and some water in a pitcher. Uncle 
Lee proceeded to mix his own lemonade. There 
was sugar on the table. 

“When you want what we call lemonade in 
our country,” Uncle Lee told the wide-eyed chil¬ 
dren, as he handed each of them a frosted glass, 
“order lemon squash.” 

“HI remember,” promised Peter. 

It was restful sleeping under fine-mesh mos¬ 
quito netting; and morning found the party re¬ 
freshed. It was delightful driving in a horse- 
drawn carriage through the narrow streets that 
swarmed with dark-skinned, dark-haired Italians. 
It was fun crossing the Arno River and remem¬ 
bering that it was just a little black line in 
northern Italy on the maps of the geographies. 



THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA 


T HEN, all of a sudden, Peter and Nancy 
caught sight of the Leaning Tower. They 
rubbed their eyes. It did lean. That it was one 
hundred and seventy-nine feet high and that it 
leans fourteen feet on the outside were the facts 
with which the children were familiar. 

“It has stood there for over eight hundred 
years,” Uncle Lee said. “Pisa built it because 
she wanted as fine a bell tower as Venice had. 
It turned out to be one of the finest in the world. 
One writer said, Tt looks like some fairy tower, 
composed of tier upon tier of marble columns and 
delicate tracery, and leans gently forward as 
though weary of the burden of its own beauty/ ” 
“Why, Uncle Lee, that’s poetry!” Nancy cried. 
“And it’s beautiful, too!” Peter added, with a 
smile. 

Uncle Lee laughed and led the children to the 
tower, where he allowed them to make the long 
climb to the top by way of the tedious, circular 
stairs inside the building. 

The guide was very talkative, for Peter and 
Nancy were most attentive listeners. He talked 
loudly and excitedly about the tower, and he 
declared it had not changed in his grandfather’s 
lifetime, nor in his father’s. It would always 
too 

0 * 3 



TJnderwood & Underwood 

THE LEANING TOWER DID LEAN! 














102 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


stand just like that, no matter what any one 
said. No one knows, the guide insisted, how the 
tower happened to be built leaning, but it was 
built that way on purpose. It did not sink after 
it had been built, as most people believed. 

“What is the truth, Uncle Lee?” Nancy asked, 
as she and Peter followed him down out of the 
tower. 

“The guide is just about right,” Uncle Lee 
answered. “The tower was built on wooden piles 
driven into ground so soft that, when it was 
just begun, it began to sink. That strange acci¬ 
dent, instead of ruining it, evidently gave the 
architects an idea. They built it in such a way 
that, if you dropped a straight line down from 
a certain point, the line would touch the ground 
within the foundations of the tower. So, although 
the tower leans, it will not fall. That was very 
clever, don’t you think?” 

The children nodded, though they did not un¬ 
derstand perfectly. Peter was asking Uncle Lee 
about the great scholar, Galileo. Hadn’t Galileo 
dropped the apple from the Leaning Tower and 
so proved certain laws about gravity or the pull 
of the earth? Uncle Lee said Peter was right, 
and that Galileo proved that heavy weights and 
light weights fell in the same length of time. 

They crossed the street to the great cathedral 
with its buildings. Here, it was said, Galileo had 
studied out nature’s laws after dropping the 
apple from the Leaning Tower. This old cathe- 



THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA 


103 


dral was built in the form of a Latin cross. Beg¬ 
gars stood at the doorway, and Nancy could not 
forget them, even while she viewed the altar 
marbles. 

To Peter the Baptistery, which they visited 
next and which really belonged to the cathedral, 
was the most interesting building in Pisa. It 
was an odd, dome-shaped building, with a queer 
power of sending back echoes. Peter could sing 
out several notes, and his music echoed with 
more tones and overtones. Peter would have 
liked to try his voice all afternoon, but some 
Italian mothers had come to have their babies 
baptized; and so the little party had to be quiet. 
Nancy was glad to leave because she was so 
anxious to get back to the door of the cathedral 
and give the lira Uncle Lee had handed her to the 
beggars. A lira was like a French franc and 
worth less than twenty cents; but the Italian 
woman to whorii she gave it was very grateful. 



HANDKERCHIEF FARMS 


“TTOW large was that piece of land your father 
JjL gave you for a garden last summer, 
Peter ?” Uncle Lee asked, as he and the two chil¬ 
dren jogged along in a cart drawn by two big, 
cream-colored horses and driven by a fresh¬ 
skinned boy whose welcoming grin included Nancy. 

They were on a country road in Denmark. Day 
before yesterday, Uncle Lee and the two children 
had been sweltering in Pisa. Then the cablegram 
had come, ordering Uncle Lee to Denmark. They 
had flown from Pisa in a private airplane, owned 
by a friend of Uncle Lee’s; and, as Peter said, 
they were having a hard time coming down to 
earth. Uncle Lee had to repeat his question before 
Peter could collect his thoughts. 

“Oh, about an acre and a half, maybe two 
acres,” he answered, not seeing the drift of the 
question. 

“And your flower garden, Nancy?” Uncle Lee 
inquired, lifting his eyebrows a bit. “How big 
was it?” 

“About an acre, I think, Uncle Lee,” Nancy re¬ 
sponded. “I didn’t plant quite all of it. Part of 
it was put into strawberries. I don’t remember 
just how much Mother gave me. Why do you 
ask, Uncle?” 


104 


HANDKERCHIEF FARMS 


105 


“Because I want you and Peter to get some 
idea of what the Danes can do,” Uncle Lee an¬ 
swered. “Many of their farms are only an acre 
and a half. Forty acres would be considered an 
immense farm.” 

Uncle Lee looked hard at Peter and Nancy; 
and Peter exclaimed, “Why, Uncle, Daddy has a 
hundred and sixty acres. Even those poor 
Kriegers at home own forty acres. Are all the 
Danes poor?” 

“Hardly!” Uncle Lee replied. “They don’t 
think they are, even though some of us tourists 
call their holdings ‘Handkerchief Farms.’ ” 

“Handkerchief Farms!” both children ex¬ 
claimed at once; and Nancy added, “I know why. 
Because they’re so small.” 

“How do the Danes manage to live?” Peter 
wanted to know. 

“I thought that would interest you, Peter,” 
Uncle Lee said, with a wise smile. “Well, here 
we are at my friend’s farm. He’ll explain much. 
Here comes Nels. Hello, Nels! Here are my 
nephew, Peter, and my niece, Nancy. This is 
Mr. Nels Broderson, children.” 

The cart stopped, they all climbed out, and 
Nels held out his hands in welcome. A few min¬ 
utes later Peter and Nancy were following Uncle 
Lee and Mr. Broderson over the farm. There 
were no fences or hedges. When the children 
asked why, the farmer explained, through Uncle 
Lee, that no small space could be wasted. 



106 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Why are the cattle tied up?” Nancy asked, 
surprised that the cows could not wander about 
in pastures as they did at home. 

“They're staked out,” Uncle Lee explained. 
“Each man's pasture is only big enough for his 
own cattle. Nels wouldn't want his cows to get 
into his neighbor's sugar beets.” 

“See the beehives near the little flower garden 
back of the house!” Nancy cried. “I suppose the 
bees furnish honey for Mr. Broderson and his 
family. Peter, look at those queer little apple 
trees and that funny, long cherry tree! And the 
ground underneath is all planted in garden stuff.” 

“Those are dwarf apple trees and long-trunk 
cherry trees,” Uncle Lee offered. “Know why 
they're grown here?” 

“I can guess,” Peter spoke up. “Those trees 
do not keep the sun from the growing gardens. 
We never think of things like that at home. Of 
course we don't have to.” 

Peter pulled Nancy after him toward the big 
barn. 

“Uncle Lee and Nels are going into the barn,” 
he said. “Come along. You always liked cows 
at home.” 

The children gazed with interest at the big, 
clean barn. Above each cow's stall was a record. 
The amount of food eaten by the cow, the amount 
of milk she gave, and the butter-fat in the milk 
had all been carefully set down. 

“Nels says to tell you,” Uncle Lee said, turning 



HANDKERCHIEF FARMS 


107 


toward the children and grinning, “that when a 
cow eats her head off, she is sold for meat. Then 
a better milch cow takes her place.” 

Nels was talking excitedly and earnestly. What 
was it all about? Uncle Lee seemed to under¬ 
stand the children’s interest and turned to 
explain. 

“Ever hear of ‘gentleman’s butter’?” he asked. 
“The big land owners used to make the best 
butter because they could afford to hire the best 
butter-makers. Of course this butter brought the 
best prices. Now, Nels tells me, the peasants 
have organized and they’ve worked together and 
hired good butter-makers themselves. In London 
right now the so-called gentleman’s butter and 
the peasant’s butter bring the same good price.” 

“How about Danish eggs?” Peter inquired. 
“That aviator said that Danish eggs were the 
best to be had.” 

Uncle Lee spoke to Nels, and he led the children 
to the hen-house. There he showed them how 
each egg was dated and numbered. Nels was 
chuckling as he told Uncle Lee a joke. 

“Nels says,” Uncle Lee explained, “that Den¬ 
mark ships so many good eggs to other countries 
that it has to buy cheaper eggs from those same 
countries for its own use.” 

How the children laughed! 



COPENHAGEN'S FREE PORT 


U NCLE LEE and Mr. Broderson next talked 
over the price of bacon, while Nancy and 
Peter watched the fine, clean hogs and pigs. 

And then their host turned to ask if they had 
been in Copenhagen. That was the one Danish 
word they understood, and they smiled and shook 
their heads. 

“Copenhagen,” Uncle Lee explained, “means 
'Merchants' Harbor,' and it is often called the 
'City of Spires' or the 'Queen of the Baltic.' If 
you were to sail into the harbor of Copenhagen, 
children, you'd probably go into the 'free port' 
before you entered the old harbor. A free port 
means that every land may send its ships into 
the harbor without paying duty on its goods. 
Traders often exchange goods in Copenhagen's 
free port. Isn't that so, Nels?” 

Nels began to talk very fast. 

“He says to tell you,” Uncle Lee translated, 
“that the free port is about the busiest place in 
Europe. It has an electric plant, great ware¬ 
houses, ferries, offices and even restaurants, just 
like a little town in itself. There are even some 
foreign factories here. These manufacturers 
avoid paying duty on raw materials in this way. 
That so, Nels?” 


108 


COPENHAGEN’S FREE PORT 


109 



Ewing Galloway 

COPENHAGEN MEANS “MERCHANTS’ HARBOR” 

“I think Copenhagen is very generous,” said 
Peter. 

“It is,” Uncle Lee agreed, “but you must re¬ 
member, young man, that goods do not enter 
Denmark without paying duty!” 

Nels was trying to talk to Nancy in broken 
English. Uncle Lee came to the rescue. 

“He wants you to visit the King’s Market Place 
in the heart of Copenhagen. Each wagon, he says, 
is like a little shop. Some are filled with vege¬ 
tables, and some are filled with fish. But he 
thinks you would like the wagons best that are 









110 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


filled with flowers. Every Danish woman is a 
shopper, and they buy mostly direct from the 
wagons.” 

“I know Td like to see the wagons,” Nancy 
cried, eyes sparkling. “Perhaps I might go to¬ 
morrow with Peter while you’re busy. I don’t 
suppose we’d have time to-night. You’re sure 
we’re going into Copenhagen, Uncle Lee?” 

Nancy could never accustom herself to the short 
distances in Europe, and it seemed almost magical 
that they should find themselves, toward evening, 
driving along the streets near the harbor. Be¬ 
cause of what they had learned on the Broderson 
farm, both Peter and Nancy saw the city with 
new eyes. Longshoremen were loading boxes and 
crates onto big ships. The boxes and crates 
seemed endless in number. 

“Little handkerchief farms!” Peter’s eyes 
shone with a new determination. “If they can 
raise so much on a handkerchief farm, I should 
be able to raise much more on my little piece at 
home.” 

“Little handkerchief farms!” Nancy repeated 
and smiled wisely. “I shall keep better track of 
the eggs, and I hope we shall always make gentle¬ 
man’s butter.” 

“Denmark’s only a third as big as New York 
State.” Peter could not take his eyes off the busy 
workers. “But it’s a big little country.” 



THE BELGIAN BEEHIVE 


I ’D hardly know we were in Belgium. It’s 
almost like Holland or Denmark,” Nancy 
exclaimed, as she and Peter and Uncle Lee Mac- 
Laren jogged along in a cart over a fine, country 
road in Flanders. “See the tiny farms, Peter! 

No fences, no hedges, no walls! How do they 
ever tell where one man’s vegetable garden ends 
and where another begins?” 

“I believe they plow a narrow furrow between 
the farms,” Uncle Lee offered. “You see we’re 
in northwest Belgium on what is sometimes called 
the Plain of Flanders. I suppose it’s the wind¬ 
mills and the dikes that remind you of Holland, 
Nancy. These windmills not only pump water, 
but they also grind grain. The Belgians are a 
thrifty people, I can tell you.” 

“Such flowers!” Nancy exclaimed. “And such 
asparagus as that boy is holding, so big and thick 
and white! Uncle, it’s all like a wonderful flower 
garden. Whatever do they do with so many 
flowers? Is it thrifty to raise such a variety?” 

“Ghent is called the 'City of Flowers.’ ” Uncle • 
Lee smiled at Nancy’s radiant face. “But I hardly 
think Ghent uses all the flowers raised near it. 
You see, Ghent is an important trade city. It’s 
located on two good rivers, the Lys and the 


111 


112 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Scheldt; and not only do these two rivers meet 
there, but two big canals as well connect the city 
with the sea. It wouldn’t be hard to ship flowers, 
would it? The same barges take fresh vegetables 
to Ostend, and Ostend ships flowers and vege¬ 
tables to London. Ostend’s a fashionable water¬ 
ing place, or, as we would say, resort. Of course 
it’s famous for other things, too, such as its lin¬ 
ens, candles and sailcloth. Remember, Peter? 
Ostend was the capital of Belgium during the 
World War.” 

“I remember.” Peter spoke up for the first 
time. “The Krieger boys told me. I’m surprised 
at the country, though. The farms are so close 
together and so small that the country looks 
more like a village than a countryside. I never 
saw so many women and children working. 
Where are all the men and boys? Napping?” 

“In the Belgian Beehive there are no drones,” 
said Uncle Lee. “While the women and children 
tend the gardens and raise the pigs and chickens, 
the men and boys are working in the factories 
in the towns. Railroad fare is very cheap.” 

“What do they make in the factories?” Peter 
asked, but his eyes were intent on the busy gar¬ 
deners, with their flaxen hair and blue eyes, and 
on the equally busy windmills, with their indus¬ 
trious, shining blades. 

“Carpets and rugs and cotton goods,” Uncle 
Lee answered. “They raise flax near Courtrai, 
and it’s made into linen in Ghent. Their cotton 



THE BELGIAN BEEHIVE 


113 


comes from the United States. By the way, 
Courtrai is on the Lys River and, as you’ve prob¬ 
ably heard, had many beautiful buildings before 
the War. It will always, I hope, be famous for 
its linens and its exquisite lace.” 

“Courtrai!” Peter exclaimed. “What was it 
that traveler told us about Courtrai?” 

“I remember,” Nancy cried. “He said Courtrai 
and Bruges were dead cities. The harbor of 
Bruges filled up with silt, and the ships couldn’t 
land there.” 

“I think that when you see Bruges to-morrow, 
you’ll enjoy a dead city,” said Uncle Lee soberly. 
“It’s the capital of West Flanders, and three 
great canals meet there. That means plenty of 
business, even if the harbor is filled up with silt 
so that the big ships can’t enter. Then, too, 
Bruges is famous for its Gothic buildings. That’s 
the pointed style, you know. There’s the fine old 
cathedral of Notre Dame, and perhaps the most 
beautiful belfry, or bell tower, in Europe. I’ve 
shown you pictures of the Belfry of Bruges. 
You like bells, Nancy, and you’ll enjoy the forty- 
eight chimes ringing from this tower. They make 
sweet music.” 

Uncle Lee did seem like a magic uncle, for, 
on the following afternoon, Peter and Nancy 
drove in a car through the broad streets of the 
old city and surveyed with delight the many low- 
roofed houses, with their pointed gables, and the 
broad canals on which swans floated peacefully 




Ewing Galloway 


THE BELFRY OF BRUGES, PERHAPS THE MOST 
BEAUTIFUL BELL TOWER IN EUROPE 









THE BELGIAN BEEHIVE 


115 


even though there were numberless barges. The 
dogs hauling milk and vegetable carts made them 
homesick for their collie Shep. 

“It seems to me I’ve never seen so many 
bridges,” Peter declared, as Uncle Lee had the 
driver slow down so that the children might see 
them. 

“Well,” said Uncle Lee, “the Flemish word 
briigge means bridges. That’s where Bruges got 
its name, With so many canals, it’s necessary to 
have a great many bridges.” 

Uncle Lee’s customer, a kindly man who bought 
fruit for the children at one of the outdoor mar¬ 
kets, invited them to his home. He insisted on 
Uncle Lee’s dismissing his driver and riding home 
in his car. The man’s daughter, who was sitting 
out on the stoop making what she called pillow 
lace, welcomed them. Nancy stared at the deli¬ 
cate lace, while Peter stared at the bobbins. 

“Why is it called ‘pillow lace’?” Nancy asked, 
and added, “I think it is too dainty for just 
pillows.” 

“Homemade lace is an old industry,” Uncle Lee 
said. “Bruges doesn’t want it to die out. Nancy, 
we must take some of this lovely lace home for 
your mother.” 

“But why is it called pillow lace?” Nancy per¬ 
sisted. 

“We call it pillow lace,” the fair-haired Belgian 
girl explained, in English, as she led them into 



116 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


the house, “because the pattern is pinned on a 
pillow with all the little bobbins about it.” 

“The lace is fine,” Peter admitted, “but Pd like 
to take a willow basket home. I guess there are 
as many willow baskets in Bruges as there are 
pieces of lace.” 

Everybody laughed, but Peter knew he was 
right. 

Nancy and Peter did wish they could stay 
longer in northern Belgium; but Uncle Lee’s 
business carried him into the south. Even the 
language here differed from that of the north. It 
sounded more like French than Flemish; and the 
people were dark-eyed and dark-haired. The sand 
dunes and low, flat stretches were giving way to 
rolling hills. 

“No more little farms!” Nancy exclaimed, in 
disappointment. 

“It’s the other way about here,” Uncle Lee 
admitted. “The families live in the villages and 
work on leased land, for the most part. They 
raise oats, rye and wheat. No more tiny farms, 
Nancy. See the old chateau, rising out of that 
wood! Enjoy it now, because you’re going to see 
a good many factories from to-day on. We’re 
going to Liege. I think both you and Peter know 
something of Liege. It was the first big city in 
the way of the Germans when they invaded Bel¬ 
gium in August, 1914. They took it and held it 
until the end of the War. The Meuse River flows 
right through the town and it is the center of a 



THE BELGIAN BEEHIVE 


117 


rich coal district. Here in Liege are the famous 
artillery works, machine mills and metal works. 
In Liege years ago, the citizens used to make 
even their nails by hand.” 

“What do they make at Liege now, Uncle?” 
Peter asked. “Didn’t you say once that it was 
called the ‘Workshop of Europe’?” 

“There are three big coal mines close to the 
city,” Uncle Lee explained, “and Liege makes all 
sorts of steel products, from steel bridges and 
cranes to rails. Of course it’s famous, too, for 
arms and ammunition. The Meuse River runs 
right through the Belgian coal fields, but it’s a 
beautiful, much-loved river, just the same. Ant¬ 
werp handles the transportation for Liege, for 
the most part. It’s a well-fortified town, and 
although it’s fifty miles from the open sea and 
on the Scheldt River, it is the chief port of 
Belgium. It’s worth going to see whether you 
have any business to transact or not. Its beauti¬ 
ful Gothic Cathedral has a spire four hundred 
feet high, and no pilgrim ever leaves Antwerp 
without viewing Reuben’s famous painting, ‘The 
Descent from the Cross.” 

“I wish I might see it,” Nancy said, wistfully. 
“We have a print of it at home. I’m glad southern 
Belgium isn’t just steel.” 

“No, Brussels manufactures some of the finest 
plate glass in the world,” Uncle Lee said. “Some¬ 
times Brussels is called the Paris of Belgium, 
Nancy. It has lovely picture galleries, palaces, 



118 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


and flower gardens. Being the capital of Bel¬ 
gium, it has a great many fine government build¬ 
ings and attracts many distinguished visitors and 
diplomats. The little stream that runs through 
the town has been arched over, and, if we get 
to visit the city, I shall take you for a ride on the 
Inner Boulevard which is above the river. It 
was a great task to make this famous boulevard, 
but the Belgians are not afraid of work.” 

“Well,” said Nancy. “This is the busiest coun¬ 
try I ever saw. No wonder they call it the Bel¬ 
gian Beehive!” 

“A beehive without a drone!” Peter exclaimed. 
“It deserves to prosper, doesn't it, Uncle?” 

“It is prospering, Peter,” Uncle Lee declared. 
“And the best thing about it, to my notion, is that 
Americans are helping to repair and rebuild 
Belgium.” 

“The American soldiers were very kind to the 
Belgians during the World War, weren't they, 
Uncle Lee?” Nancy asked. 

“Yes, and the Belgians were very kind to the 
Americans, too,” Peter put in. “ ‘Turn about's 
fair play!' ” 

“That's one of the good things about the War,” 
Uncle Lee said, soberly. “It has helped to cement 
the friendship of Belgium and the United States.” 

“I'm glad!” exclaimed Peter and Nancy, both 
at once. 



FIORDS AND DELTAS 


N ANCY’S face was radiant. So was Peter’s. 

So was Uncle Lee’s. The little boat was 
full of smiling people who strolled about the 
clean decks and visited in Norwegian, in French, 
in German and (luckily for Peter and Nancy) in 
English, too. 

Norway, with its sight and sound of the sea, 
its rugged mountains and its queer coastline, 
was the oddest country Nancy and Peter had ever 
visited. They had arrived with Uncle Lee in 
Bergen but a few days before and had been 
almost too excited to sleep. And now they had 
joined the crowd of sightseers on this little boat 
that was to take them into one of the most 
beautiful fiords in Norway. Peter had learned 
in school that a fiord was “A long and narrow 
arm of the sea with high, rocky banks.” But that 
definition didn’t give any idea of the beauty of 
the clear blue water and mountainous cliffs. 

“No wonder the coastline of Norway looked 
so uneven and joggly in our geographies,” Peter 
exclaimed. “I don’t see how any map-maker 
could keep track of the islands, either. There 
are every size, I believe, from islands big enough 
for farms to mere pieces of rock sticking up out 
of the ocean.” 


119 


120 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“The ships are the most wonderful things,” 
Nancy cried. “Remember how much we wished 
we could go where the gulls went? Well, we’re 
here. Did you notice those longshoremen this 
morning, Peter? They were carrying great bun¬ 
dles of salt cod, barrels of herring, tons of cod- 
liver oil, packs of hides, and I don’t know how 
much wooden stuff onto the ships. My, but Nor¬ 
way ships a lot of things away!” 

“And did you notice,” Peter said earnestly, 
“what they took off the ships? Cereals and coal 
and cotton and wool and lots of machinery! 
Uncle and I watched them a long time while you 
took your nap.” 

“I think I saw what teacher calls the exports 
from Norway; and you and Uncle saw the im¬ 
ports. Peter, isn’t it wonderful really to see the 
things we’ve studied about, even the cod-liver 
oil? It’s no wonder that they have to buy cereals 
away from home. There’s no room to raise wheat 
or corn. If you’re a Norwegian, I guess you have 
to be a fisherman, a sailor or a ship owner.” 

“Or a farmer,” supplied a pleasant voice at 
Nancy’s elbow. 

Both children turned at once and faced a 
pleasant, light-haired, blue-eyed boy, who looked 
as sturdy as the pictures of Vikings the children 
had seen in their readers. 

“Hello!” Peter greeted the boy. “What’s your 
name, please? We are Nancy and Peter MacLaren 
from the U. S. A.” 



FIORDS AND DELTAS 


121 



Publishers Photo Service 


MANY NORWEGIAN PEASANTS HAVE FLOWER GARDENS 
ON THEIR COTTAGE ROOFS 

“I’m Olof Holen,” he said, “and I’m a farm 
boy.” 

“Where do you farm?” Peter asked. “There 
seems to be nothing but cliffs and steep moun¬ 
tains and sea.” 

“There isn’t much farm land in Norway,” the 
boy admitted. “Only about three per cent of all 
Norway can be farmed. The deltas at the heads 
of the fiords and the land along the rivers make 
the best land, and of course we have a few farms 
on the lower slopes of the mountains. But our 







122 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


people love flowers and many of them have 
flower gardens on the roofs of their cottages. 
We live just out of Trondhjem, north of Bergen. 
We raise oats, rye and dairy products. We live 
well. Our flad brot is made of oatmeal and rye, 
as you know. We have plenty of fresh and dried 
fish, good potatoes and cheese. Who could want 
more? Are you farmers?” 

“Yes,” Peter answered. “We live on a farm 
at home and we both plant and care for our own 
gardens. How well you speak English!” 

# “I study it in school. And besides, my uncle 
lives in the United States, and he teaches us when 
he comes to visit his old home.” 

“Are all the fiords as beautiful as this one?” 
Peter asked, as he gazed into the clear water and 
then up at the cliffs rising over a thousand feet 
from the water’s edge. 

“This fiord is called Smiling Hardanger,” Olof 
said, “and it is a good name, all right. Strangers 
who visit here like everything about it, from the 
beautiful scenery to the little red and white 
houses, or the fine hotels, that nestle at the head 
of small bays. Naturally I like it farther north 
better, because it’s my home. Ever seen Trond¬ 
hjem? It’s a fine town with broad streets and 
some of the finest old wooden houses in Norway. 
It’s against the law now to build new wooden 
houses there. We’re taking care to prevent fires. 
Have you been north?” 

No. Nancy spoke up. “This is our first trip. 



FIORDS AND DELTAS 


123 



cj wmg ixiiuoway 

THIS FIORD IS CALLED SMILING HARDANGER 


One of our neighbors once brought home a lovely 
coat from Trondhjem. It was lined with eider¬ 
down.” 

“Eiderdown!” Peter repeated. “Yes, I remem¬ 
ber. Where do they get the eiderdown, Olof?” 

“From the eider duck,” promptly replied Olof. 
“The eider duck builds its nest high up in the 
crags. It seems to me it chooses the most danger¬ 
ous places. The mother duck plucks the softest 
feathers from her breast to line the nest for her 
little ducklings. One must rob the nests to get 
the down.” 








124 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“How dreadful!” cried Nancy. “After all the 
work the mother duck does!” 

“How wonderful!” Olof exclaimed. “To think 
that the hunter is bold and fearless enough to 
risk his life that you may have the warm coat 
and the warm blanket!” 

The two boys laughed, but Nancy remained 
sober. 

“I like your great trees,” Peter said, to change 
the subject. “We have forests almost like yours 
in northern Minnesota and Wisconsin.” 

“We have wonderful rivers as well as wonder¬ 
ful forests,” Olof boasted. “I suppose you've 
heard of the Glommen, the Drammen and the 
Skien. The Glommen is the largest river in Nor¬ 
way, but there are so many waterfalls that it 
can be navigated only a few miles. The Drammen 
is always full of floating logs; and so is the Skien. 
We have enough lumber for our own uses, and 
our factories make everything from matches to 
ready-cut houses. The factories use the water 
power from the swift rivers. We aren't all fisher¬ 
men and sailors, I can tell you that.” 

At that moment the boat pulled in to the shore, 
and Uncle Lee, who had been visiting with a 
customer, came for the children. They said 
good-by to Olof. 

Little open carriages, which Uncle Lee called 
carioles , were waiting, each drawn by a small, 
cream-colored horse. There was room for only 
one person in each cariole, and the driver sat on 



FIORDS AND DELTAS 


125 


the luggage. Nancy was shy at first, but enjoyed 
the finely kept roads. The driver told her how 
each piece of road was kept by the farmer whose 
land it passed. Then he told about the greatest 
snow field in the world, the jostedalsbra. It was 
very hard for Nancy to say until the driver 
explained that bra was a field, dais a valley, and 
joste a place; and so she understood that joste¬ 
dalsbra was an ice field in a valley. The area 
of this snow field, the driver insisted, was three 
hundred and thirty square miles. 

The carioles stopped at a little inn where the 
party stayed all night. The next morning after 
breakfast, Uncle Lee said, “Now we're off to Oslo." 

“I thought we were going to see Christiania, 
the capital of Norway," Peter said. 

“Christiania has been given its old name of 
Oslo, Peter," Uncle Lee explained. “It's a lively 
city, indeed. It exports lumber and ice, packing 
paper and paving stones, and herring most of 
all. Well, we're in the land of the midnight sun 
at last. How would you like it if the sun stayed 
up at home from May thirteenth to July twenty- 
seventh, Peter, the way it does at Hammerfest? 
Of course Hammerfest is away up in northern 
Norway and is often called The City Farthest 
North.' Even the trees are stunted up there, and 
there's very little grass. But Hammerfest's har¬ 
bor never freezes, thanks to the warm Atlantic 
drift from the Gulf Stream. The city is more 
lively than you would suppose, for the boats bring 



126 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Publishers Photo Service 


THE LAPLANDERS ARE SOMEWHAT LIKE GYPSIES 


in cargoes of whale, walrus, herring and cod. Dur¬ 
ing the short summer everybody works with a 
will, for, during the seven months of comparative 
darkness, the people can carry on very little 
business.” 

“I suppose the children don’t have to go to 
school,” observed Peter. 

“Oh, yes, they do,” Uncle Lee corrected. “The 
Norwegians are all students. Even the Lapps 
in the northern city of Tromso go to school in 
the dark.” 





FIORDS AND DELTAS 


127 


“Are those the Laplanders we read about, 
Uncle Lee?” Nancy asked. 

“Yes. The Laplanders are somewhat like gyp¬ 
sies,” Uncle Lee explained. “They follow the 
reindeer, though, instead of the warm weather. 
Norway has quite a few of them who live there 
all the time. Tromso is often called the city of 
the Lapps. The Lapps really prefer to live in 
tents during the summer, but of course huts and 
houses are necessary during the winter. Many 
tourists visit their city and are offered everything 
from reindeer horns and walrus tusks to furs. 
The Lapps make a good deal of their living from 
the tourists.” 

“It seems to me,” said Peter soberly, “that 
Norway is a very sober, hard-working country.” 

“Anyway,” said Nancy, “it doesn't have to 
recover from the war, like Belgium.” 

“But it does,” said Uncle Lee. “During the war 
half of Norway’s merchant vessels were sunk by 
submarines and over two thousand sailors per¬ 
ished. But Norway has built new boats and 
regained her fine courage.” 

“Well, Nancy,” Peter asked, “what would you 
do if you lived in the Land of the Midnight Sun 
and had to go to school in the dark?” 

“I’d remember how Smiling Hardanger looked 
in the light,” Nancy answered. 



THE LAND OF THE SAFETY MATCH 


N ANCY and Peter had expected to find Sweden 
much the same as Norway. It looked some¬ 
what like Norway on the map. But they soon 
learned that, on the coast, were low, tideless bays 
instead of the deep bays and rocky fiords of the 
Norwegian coast. 

As they drove through the pleasant country 
beyond Stockholm, in an automobile that Uncle 
Lee had rented, Peter said, “We might as well be 
in Wisconsin. Just rolling hills and meadows and 
fields of wheat and rye and barley !” 

“They’re even raising hay,” Nancy remarked, 
“and I never before saw so many wood fences and 
red farmhouses trimmed in white. You’re right, 
Peter. It’s almost like being home.” 

“Except for several things, including safety 
matches!” Uncle Lee put in and laughed. 

“Safety matches!” exclaimed both children, 
with one voice. 

“Yes, safety matches!” Uncle Lee repeated, as 
he carefully skirted around a team of oxen. 
“Safety matches have done a great deal to pre¬ 
vent accidents, and the land that invented them 
should receive our gratitude. Although safety 
matches were unknown before 1852, they are now 
accepted by every country in the world.” 


128 


THE LAND OF THE SAFETY MATCH 


129 


“We use Swedish matches at home,” Peter 
spoke up. “Remember the funny little boxes, 
Nancy?” 

Nancy nodded. 

“They’re made in Jonkoping, the match center 
of the world,” Uncle Lee offered. “Jonkoping is 
southwest of Stockholm and located on Lake 
Wetter. The factories have no trouble getting 
wood, for there’s a great deal of wood in Sweden, 
wood for houses, fences and plenty left for 
matches. The aspen is used mostly for matches. 
Jonkoping is full of factories that make all sorts 
of wooden things, but the making of matches is 
the most interesting. Thousands of people are 
employed just for that, and one machine alone 
fills forty thousand boxes of matches in an hour. 
Although Jonkoping is a factory town, there are 
no slums, and you may be very sure, no un¬ 
employed.” 

“Where do they get all of the wood, Uncle?” 
Peter asked. “Are there high mountains in the 
north?” 

“Yes, and there are sixty important rivers in 
Sweden that make logging easy,” Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained. “They haven’t the steep waterfalls of 
Norwegian rivers, and besides, most of them run 
from the wooded mountains in a southeasterly 
direction to the sea. They begin to open up at 
the mouth and gradually melt as the sun rises 
higher. That means that there will be no floods 
and that the logs that have been cut up during 



130 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


the winter will float easily down their roads of 
water. The Dal river probably floats more logs 
than any other river in the world. Well, there’s 
the Svenson farm ahead of us. While I talk busi¬ 
ness with Mr. Svenson, you children can look 
around.” 

Peter and Nancy were glad, indeed, that Uncle 
Lee took them up to the house through the pear, 
apple and cherry orchard. The trees were large 
and rich in foliage and fruit. 

The house was clean and fresh, and there was 
a lovely porcelain stove in the main room. Mrs. 
Svenson showed Nancy her beautiful embroideries 
and linens. Then she gave the children a delicious 
lunch of dark bread, sweet butter, milk, honey 
and hard little cakes. Both Nancy and Peter were 
delighted to find that Mrs. Svenson could speak 
English quite as well as Olof had spoken it. 

“I used to think,” Peter offered, "that all Nor¬ 
wegians and Swedes were fishermen.” 

"The Swedish do fish a great deal, though we 
haven’t the cod of the Norwegians,” Mrs. Svenson 
told Peter. "Most of our harbors are frozen over 
for so much of the year that we can scarcely get 
enough fish for ourselves, while Norway exports 
fish.” 

"Where is the best fishing in Sweden?” Nancy 
asked. 

"Goteborg on the southwest coast has the best 
fishing,” Mrs. Svenson answered. "The fisher¬ 
men there bring in mostly herring and mackerel. 



THE LAND OF THE SAFETY MATCH 


131 


Oh, the fine herring! The delicate mackerel! But 
Mr. Svenson prefers the soil to the sea. Perhaps 
your uncle has told you how we Swedish people 
are heating soil in hotbeds for gardening.” 

“It seems sunny enough to make any garden 
grow,” Peter exclaimed. 

“It is to-day.” Mrs. Svenson smiled, then grew 
sober. “But our summer is short, and we have 
long, dark, bleak winters.” 

Mr. Svenson came in with Uncle Lee, and the 
older people drank coffee and talked of the great 
Gota Canal which they said was three hundred 
and forty-seven miles long. They described the 
Gota Canal as a channel of waterways, passing 
through rivers, lakes and canals, connecting 
Stockholm on the Baltic with Goteborg on the 
North Sea. Goteborg, they said, at the mouth of 
the Gota river, could boast of miles of wharves 
and quays. Mrs. Svenson told Uncle Lee that 
this great shipping port was founded by Gustavus 
Adolphus, the soldier king. One day, while he 
was looking at the river, a small bird, chased by 
an eagle, flew to his feet for safety. The king 
considered this a good omen and ordered a city 
to be built in the valley below. 

“Do many Swedish people live in the far north 
near the Baltic Sea?” Peter asked Mrs. Svenson 
as she paused in her story. 

“The Baltic Sea, my friend,” Mrs. Svenson 
declared, “is a very angry sea. The waves are 
nearly always white-capped. The breakers dash 



132 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


high on the rocky shores and around the little 
islands. On shore the grass is scanty and poor. 
Here the Lapps rove with their reindeer. The 
Lapps do not demand what we do. They build 
themselves tents of bark and depend on their 
reindeer for smoked meat, milk and skins.” 

Mr. Svenson now began to ask about the United 
States, and Uncle Lee grinned when his host 
boasted about Sweden. Mr. Svenson insisted that 
Sweden had the best railway system in the world, 
the richest iron mines and the finest water power 
with which to run its factories. 

“Sweden is sometimes called,” Mr. Svenson 
declared with a good deal of force, “the land of 
the white birch and white coal.” 

“White coal!” Peter and Nancy exclaimed in 
one breath, and Peter added, “I never saw any¬ 
thing but black coal in all my life.” 

Mr. Svenson laughed loudly. 

“The black coal,” he said, “is used to produce 
heat and power, isn’t it? We have wonderful 
rivers with swift water that we call white coal, 
because it can be harnessed and made to do the 
work of black coal.” 

“And it’s so much cleaner,” Nancy put in. “I 
understand. You make electricity by means of 
your water power.” 

“You have very bright children with you, Mr. 
MacLaren,” Mr. Svenson said with a bow. 

“Tack sa mycket!” Nancy and Peter both cried. 

They had learned that one expression which 



THE LAND OF THE SAFETY MATCH 


133 


means, “Thank you very much.” Sometimes 
Uncle Lee allowed them to say just “Tak,” to 
telephone operators, for instance. The Swedish 
telephone operators never said, “Just a minute, 
please,” but, “In the wink of an eye”; and they 
really meant it. 

Mr. Svenson was again talking to Nancy. 

“When you go back to the United States, be 
sure to tell any Norwegians you meet that Sweden 
has four times as much land under cultivation as 
Norway. And tell any Italians you see that our 
Venice beats the Venice of Italy all hollow.” 

“He means Stockholm,” Mrs. Svenson ex¬ 
plained. “It is often called the Venice of the 
North, because it is partly built on islands. You 
will love its beautiful harbor, its flowery streets 
and even its factories. Your uncle tells me you 
are on the way now.” 

When they came to go, Peter nudged Nancy. 

“Notice the little boxes of matches in the 
kitchen?” he asked. 

“Yes. I saw them, and I'm glad I did,” Nancy 
replied. “Whenever I see those same little boxes 
at home, I shall think of our visit here in Sweden. 
But the Svensons say we haven’t seen Sweden 
until we’ve visited Stockholm.” 

Of all the foreign cities they had visited, Peter 
and Nancy were most surprised at their first sight 
of Stockholm. They stared in amazement at the 
well-swept, cobbled sidewalks, the many squares 
full of wonderful flowers and statues and the 



134 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


really beautiful quays, which Uncle Lee called 
Stockholm’s front door, where boats and cargoes 
of all sorts moored in front of the Royal Palace, 
Town Hall, and Houses of Parliament. They had 
driven down to the quays in a taxi cab called a 
bil or automobile; and they didn’t know which 
way to look, at the many sailboats with the count¬ 
less cords of silver birch, glistening in the sun, 
or at the somber granite buildings, with their 
severe but handsome architecture. 

“Why are all the buildings such a sober gray?” 
Nancy asked. “Mr. Svenson said the country had 
plenty of timber.” 

“You would naturally expect Stockholm to be 
built of wood, since Stockholm means Tsle of the 
Log,’ ” Uncle Lee remarked. “The people used to 
build wooden buildings. It took several terrible 
fires to convince them that the granite beneath 
them would be safest and best.” 

“What do they do with all that lovely birch 
wood?” Peter asked. 

“It’s the city’s fuel,” Uncle Lee answered. 
“Suppose we drive about a bit.” 

In Gustavus Adolphus Torg (Square) he 
paused for the children to see the statue of the 
great soldier king; and then he had the driver 
draw up in front of Concert Hall. 

“0 Uncle Lee!” Nancy cried, delightedly. “You 
never, never even prepared me for this!” 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Uncle Lee admitted. 
“This is the greatest flower market in Europe.” 



THE LAND OF THE SAFETY MATCH 


135 



BEAUTIFUL STOCKHOLM, OFTEN CALLED THE 
VENICE OF THE NORTH 

Nancy and Peter alighted from the bil with 
Uncle Lee and walked about. They exclaimed over 
the flaming gladioli, the long-stemmed, fragrant 
roses, the dahlias, the asters, the sweet peas, and 
the lilies and violets. The flowers were so cheap 
that Nancy soon had her arms filled. Rich and 
poor alike, everybody seemed to be buying flowers. 

“Time for only one more short excursion this 
afternoon,” Uncle Lee announced, when Nancy 
could hold no more flowers. “I want you children 
to see the Workingman Gardens on the outskirts 
of town. The idea began as a war measure. 

“Workingman Gardens!” exclaimed Peter. 





136 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Yes. And such a good war measure that it 
still exists,” said Uncle Lee. “Stockholm divided 
the land on the outskirts into small plots, charg¬ 
ing only a few dollars for a summer’s use. Here 
in the hard times during the war, the laborer 
built a tiny cottage, usually of the ready-made 
kind, and the man’s wife and children worked all 
through the summer months on their ‘little 
farm,’ raising vegetables and flowers. On an 
appointed Sunday in August, they brought the 
best of their produce into the Blue Room of the 
Town Hall, where fine prizes were given for the 
best. Because this plan was so successful during 
the war, it is still in force.” 

Peter and Nancy were amazed at the fine vege¬ 
tables and flowers grown on the farms. 

“How healthy and happy the children look!” 
Nancy exclaimed. “They are all so fair and tall 
and blue-eyed, and they all look so strong. I 
wish it were winter, so that I could see them ski.” 

“You wouldn’t like the winter, Nancy,” said 
Peter. “Would she, Uncle Lee? Do the children 
really go to school by lamplight?” 

“Indeed they do,” answered Uncle Lee, and his 
eyes twinkled. “They go on Saturdays, too.” 

“Well,” said Peter, “perhaps we don’t work so 
hard after all. Anyway, next winter, when I’m 
studying geography, I’ll know a little something 
about the land of the safety match.” 



SNOWBALLS IN JULY AND GINGERBREAD 
FOR INDEPENDENCE 


N ANCY and Peter caught their first glimpse 
of the mountains going up from Mainz in 
Germany to Interlaken in Switzerland. From the 
train they looked so fragile and faint that Nancy 
declared that they were only a mirage that 
wouldn’t be there when she looked again. Down 
below were blue lakes, of the brightest blue im¬ 
aginable, and red-roofed cottages nestling in the 
valley. Uncle Lee had again wrought his magic. 

Toward evening they arrived at Interlaken, 
that lovely Swiss city which means “between 
lakes” and which really does lie on a delta be¬ 
tween two bodies of blue, shining water. Looking 
southward from the hotel garden, the children 
saw the magnificent Jungfrau, one of the most 
beautiful mountains in the world, its sides cov¬ 
ered with pure white snow and its summit tinged 
with exquisite rose from the dying sun. 

The next morning, while the children were 
again gazing in awe at this miracle mountain, 
Uncle Lee announced that a tally-ho was to be 
at the door in half an hour. Gayly the little 
party hurried through the good breakfast. 

The tally-ho proved to be a great, high coach, 
drawn by six beautiful white horses with red 

137 


138 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


harnesses. The driver wore a high hat, tight coat 
and shiny boots, and he flourished a long whip. 
There were comfortable seats, one back of the 
other; and four could sit, without crowding, side 
by side, on each seat. A dozen Americans were 
already seated in the three back seats. Uncle 
Lee helped Nancy and Peter up to the seat back 
of the driver, and they settled themselves happily, 
one on either side of Uncle Lee. 

Peter had often looked at Mr. Schwartz’s pic¬ 
tures of Switzerland back home. This Swiss 
neighbor had insisted that the coloring was very 
real. Now Peter knew that the blue of the lakes 
was not exaggerated, nor was the delicate color¬ 
ing of snow on the mountains. The roads were 
broad and perfectly smooth. 

Then, just six miles out of Interlaken, the 
children both exclaimed at once. There before 
them was the Staubbach, or, as Uncle Lee called 
it, the “Dust Brook.” A stream, almost a thou¬ 
sand feet above them, was falling over a precipice. 
But the stream never reached the bottom of the 
mountain. It was so small that the water broke 
into spray before it could reach the road. One 
of the women said it was like a filmy bridal veil. 
Peter and Nancy would have liked to watch the 
Staubbach for hours, but the tally-ho continued 
along the smooth road, the horses prancing and 
the sleigh bells on their red harnesses jingling. 
The bells, the smell of firs and pines, and the 
spirit of cheer made Nancy and Peter think of 




Underwood, cr underwood 

LAKE LUCERNE, ONE OF THE BEAUTIFUL SPOTS 
IN THE SWISS ALPS 






140 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Christmas. They were developing winter appe¬ 
tites, too. 

The herds of Swiss milk cows on the little up¬ 
land pastures, or alps, as they were called, ap¬ 
pealed to Peter most of all. The cows were all 
cream-colored and so meek looking. Their bells 
sounded like the chimes at home, all in tune and 
silvery. 

Lunch at a little inn and a bar of real milk 
chocolate made Peter and Nancy both enthusiastic 
for the last lap of the journey up the mountains 
in a little electric train. But they both gazed 
back at the beautiful horses and called good-by. 

Sometimes it seemed as though the train were 
going straight up. At other times, it ran through 
tunnels in the mountain. The balmy air began 
to get cold, for the wind blew down from the 
snow fields. 

“Now we shall walk,” Uncle Lee announced, 
when the train came to a halt at a little station. 
“We’ll climb over a glacier.” 

“How can we?” Nancy asked. “Don’t thev 
move?” 

Uncle Lee laughed. 

“They don’t move fast enough so you can notice 
that they move, Nancy,” he said, as he took her 
hand. 

As they trudged upward they met a group 
returning, with a great St. Bernard dog drawing 
a cart in which two little children were riding. 

What delighted Nancy most on the climb was 



141 


SNOWBALLS IN JULY 



PmaUa nxa 


THE ST. BERNARD DOG IS A FAVORITE STEED OF 
THE CHILDREN IN THE SWISS MOUNTAINS 

the fact that the little Alpine or mountain flowers, 
so bright and small, grew right up next to the 
snow. There were a great many small white 
daisies, bright yellow flowers, blue forget-me-nots 
and Alpine roses. Once she saw' a big patch of 
pansies, and she thought of Grandmother’s garden 
back home. 

After another lunch at a little refreshment 
place, Uncle Lee procured some ropes and fast- 
tened himself to Nancy and Peter. Then he gave 
them each a staff with a pointed steel end, so that 
they could help themselves along. At first it 
seemed unnecessary to Peter to have to trudge 





142 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


along tied by his waist to Uncle Lee; but several 
times he slipped and was glad when his uncle dug 
his own pick into the ice and held him steady 
while he picked himself up. It was hard to 
breathe in the rarified air. Nancy's cheeks were 
flushed and so were Peter's; and they had to 
make haste slowly. 

A native Swiss boy stopped to chat on his way 
back from a long climb. He smiled at the little, 
perishable flowers Nancy had gathered and gave 
her a bit of edelweiss that looked like delicate, 
light fur. 

“Where did you get that?" Peter asked. 

The boy pointed to a place upon the glacier 
high above them. Several difficult, icy crags would 
have to be passed to get there. 

“I'll get you all the edelweiss you want," Peter 
boasted to Nancy. 

“I don't think you will, Peter. It takes a 
trained mountain climber to get it," said Uncle 
Lee. 

“If you'd let me go ahead, I could do it," Peter 
insisted stubbornly. “I can't go very fast with 
Nancy tagging along." 

A queer glint came into Uncle Lee's eyes. 

“All right," he agreed, as he loosened the ropes 
about Peter. “Go ahead." 

Peter began to breathe hard when he had gone 
only a few rods. He was never once out of sight 
of Uncle Lee and Nancy. Finally he turned back 
toward them. 



SNOWBALLS IN JULY 


143 



Publishers Photo Service 

DIFFICULT, ICY CRAGS WOULD HAVE TO BE 
PASSED TO REACH THE EDELWEISS 

“You were right, Uncle Lee,” he panted. 

So they returned to the inn; and Peter and 
Nancy stopped on the lower levels to make snow¬ 
balls and enjoy a snow fight in July. 

“I like everything about Switzerland,” Peter 
confided, when they finally arrived back at Inter¬ 
laken and were enjoying their dinner. “I like 
the mountains and the blue lakes and the clean, 
friendly people. Pm glad it isn’t a country of 
cities.” 

“There are some important cities, however,” 







144 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Uncle Lee said. “There’s Geneva, where the fine 
watches are made; and Zurich, where you may 
get wonderful silks and Swiss embroideries; and 
Berne, the capital. And surely you know about 
St. Moritz, the fashionable winter resort, and 
beautiful Montreux, on Lake Geneva, where the 
Castle of Chillon is located. And then there’s 
Lucerne.” 

“I remember about the Lion of Lucerne,” Peter 
offered. “It’s carved out of solid rock and it holds 
the lilies of France in its paws, even though it’s 
dying.” 

“It’s a monument to the Swiss guards who 
died while protecting royalty during the French 
Revolution,” Nancy explained. 

“Correct, children! But no more to-day,” 
Uncle Lee said. “To-morrow’s the French Inde¬ 
pendence Day, and I have some French friends in 
Basle who have invited us to help the town cele¬ 
brate. Go to bed early, and we’ll all feel tiptop 
for the big day.” 

Nancy and Peter were delighted with the queer 
old. city, with its buildings on two sides of the 
Rhine and its ancient cathedral and university. 
They shopped for ribbons, and then Uncle Lee 
and his friends took the children out to an open 
square where the people had gathered. Flags and 
fireworks made the children think of the Fourth 
of July at home. But there was not an ice cream 
cone in sight, nor a lollypop. Uncle Lee bought 
each of them a big, soft gingerbread man and 




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Publishers Photo Service 


THE LION OF LUCERNE, A MONUMENT TO THE 
SWISS GUARDS 



146 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


some crullers, lattice-work dough that had been 
fried in deep fat and sprinkled with powdered 
sugar. 

Several orators spoke in deep, powerful voices. 
They made wide, sweeping gestures; and, when¬ 
ever they paused, the people clapped their hands 
and shouted. 

“Bravo!” they cried. “Bravo!” 

Peter and Nancy were close enough to hear 
every word the speakers said, but they understood 
not a syllable. Nevertheless, whenever the audi¬ 
ence cheered, Peter and Nancy called out with the 
rest, “Bravo! Bravo!” 

Uncle Lee laughed heartily. 

“But they really must have been good 
speeches!” Peter maintained. “They sounded so 
grand!” 

“This is the oddest and best Independence Day 
I ever spent,” Nancy declared. 

And Peter agreed that their magic uncle had 
given them another rare treat. 



“NURNBERG’S HAND GOES THROUGH 
EVERY LAND” 

T HE little excursion steamer made its way 
down the beautiful Rhine River in Germany. 
The flat part of the country had been left behind. 
Nancy and Peter could not take their eyes from 
the lovely hills that began to rise on either side 
of the broad river. They felt certain that the 
luxuriant, trellised rows of grapevines on the 
sunny hills were heavy with fruit. Perched above 
the vineyards rose stone castles; and Peter 
thrilled when he remembered that they had once 
been held by robber barons. 

Uncle Lee, at the rail beside them, was visiting 
with a fine looking old German with a white 
beard. They talked of Munich as a center of 
art and the old man told of great Wagnerian 
operas. Dresden, he said, was full of students 
who appreciated great pictures and fine music. 
Leipsic seemed to be mostly a great trade cen¬ 
ter; and Berlin, although located in the sandy 
plain of the north, was the center of a network 
of railroads. Peter and Nancy both knew that 
it was the capital of Germany. 

When the children told this pleasant stranger 
of the canals of Holland, he explained to them 
how easily the canals from the Rhone and the 

147 


148 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Marne, the Oder and the Elbe could handle Ger¬ 
man produce by barges. He even drew a map of 
the rivers and canals on the back of an envelope, 
and the children studied it politely. Next he 
explained to Peter how the coal of the Ruhr 
mines supplies power for factories in the valley. 

“Black coal!" Nancy offered, but the old gen¬ 
tleman looked puzzled. 

The boat stopped at Koln , or Cologne, so that 
its passengers could land and see the famous 
cathedral. Nancy had been told that it was the 
most magnificent Gothic building in the world, 
and she was not disappointed. Standing with 
Uncle Lee in the dim church, with the sunlight 
sifting through priceless glass, she looked up 
at the altar and felt a sense of great peace. She 
was very quiet all the way back to the boat; 
and, if it had not been for Peter, she might have 
forgotten the little bottle of Eau de Cologne she 
had planned to buy. 

“Funny to call it Water of Cologne," she said, 
when Uncle Lee explained that eau was the 
French word for water. “IPs as refreshing as 
pure water, but much more fragrant. This will 
be Mother's gift, because it's her favorite per¬ 
fume, and she'll like the little wicker basket 
around the bottle." 

Back on the boat once more, Nancy heard 
Uncle Lee say something to the pleasant old Ger¬ 
man that was so interesting she was tempted to 
interrupt him. 




Publishers Photo Service 


THE COLOGNE CATHEDRAL, THE MOST MAGNIFICENT 
GOTHIC BUILDING IN THE WORLD 






150 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Yes, I think you’re right,” was what he said. 
“Niirnberg’s hand still goes through every land.” 

When the German had gone down the com¬ 
panionway, Nancy grasped Uncle Lee’s arm. 

“What did he mean, Uncle: ‘Niirnberg’s hand 
goes through every land’? Does it go through 
our country?” Nancy asked, breathlessly. 

“The phrase, as it’s used to-day,” Uncle Lee 
explained, “means that Niirnberg, or Nuremburg, 
sends its toys to every country in the world. But 
the saying originated in the Middle Ages, when 
there were robber barons, Peter, and life was not 
so safe. Traders trudged with their packs or 
drove their oxen from the middle Danube through 
Niirnberg on their way to the Rhine. Traders 
from the Mediterranean went through Niirnberg 
going north. Traders from other parts of Europe 
met here. They not only bought goods made in 
Niirnberg, but they traded with each other. The 
city became a great center of exchange. Mer¬ 
chant princes as well as peddlers met here in order 
to travel in company with others. It was much 
easier to travel in company in those days.” 

“Well, I hope Santa brings a good pack safely 
through this next year,” Peter exclaimed. “Niirn¬ 
berg means ‘Merry Christmas’ to most of us. 
Nancy, I believe here’s what you’ve been looking 
for. There’s Bingen, and we’ll see the Lorelei 
Rock just below it.” 

The grape country looked very pleasant and 
prosperous, and Bingen seemed to welcome the 



‘NuRNBERG’S HAND’ 


151 


little excursion boat. Peter was delighted with 
the great statue of Germania opposite Bingen, 
and he read the inscription below, “Die Wacht 
am Rhein” and explained to Nancy that it meant 
“The Watch on the Rhine.” But Nancy was in¬ 
terested in what lay ahead. The river was becom¬ 
ing narrower and swifter. Then suddenly the 
children saw the tall summit of a rock in the 
river. It shone in the sun and looked brighter 
because of the dark waters around it. Nancy 
could almost imagine a siren living there who 
lured sailors with her beauty and her singing. 

The little Rhine trip came to an end at Bingen. 

One sunny afternoon, with the Rhine left far 
behind, Peter and Nancy found themselves in a 
forest in Thuringia in central Germany with 
Uncle Lee. 

Such beautiful mountains covered with fir and 
pine! Such tiny houses nestled against the sides 
of the mountain! Such great mountain torrents! 

“I wish we could go inside one of the little 
houses,” Nancy said, wistfully. 

“The boy at the inn told me the families up 
here make toys right at home,” Peter offered. 
“He says every Saturday the women carry them 
to town in great baskets on their backs.” 

“I have a friend further up this trail,” Uncle 
Lee said and pointed to a wee house, perched so 
high that it looked as if it might tumble at any 
moment into the rushing stream below. 

Nancy and Peter quickened their steps. 



152 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Uncle Lee knocked at the door of the house; 
and a sturdy, black-haired, red-cheeked girl 
opened it and said, “Guten Tag!” 

“Guten Tag means Good Day,” Peter whispered 
to Nancy. “The boy at the inn taught me to 
say it.” 

The girl invited Uncle Lee and the children to 
come in. Such a big, clean room, with its scrubbed 
floor, its tiled stove and its pleasant smell of 
shavings! In a cage near the window a canary 
from the Hartz Mountains sang, and at the long 
tables the children worked. In a big, cushioned 
chair by the sunny window sat the aged grand¬ 
mother, wearing a frilled cap. On the table in 
front of her were cans of different colored paints 
and numerous brushes. 

While the father and mother made Uncle Lee 
welcome, Peter and Nancy stared at the workers. 
Each one was making some part of a toy horse. 
A big boy cut out the horse's body. Another boy 
of about Peter's age whittled out legs. A little 
girl no older than Nancy carved manes, and a 
smaller girl fastened on the tails. The mother 
carved the faces and the father glued or pegged 
together the different pieces. Then the horse was 
passed to the aged grandmother, who painted it. 

“This family,” Uncle Lee told Peter and Nancy, 
“has made horses for years and years. The par¬ 
ents and grandparents, as far back as anyone 
can remember, made horses. Next up the hill is 
a family that makes tinsel trimmings for Christ- 



‘NURNBERG’S HAND ’ 


153 


mas trees and still another that makes nothing 
but dolls.” 

“Heads, too?” Nancy asked. 

“No, the heads are made in the factories. You’ll 
see the factories later,” Uncle Lee explained. 

All of a sudden the sound of a sweet song 
filled the big room of the tiny cottage. It was 
a cuckoo clock. 

“The clock came from the Black Forest,” Uncle 
Lee explained. “Wonderful clocks are made 
there. The grandmother understands that we are 
going to Nurnberg, where she sends her toys 
for marketing. Know what Nurnberg eggs are, 
Peter? Nancy?” 

“No,” they answered promptly, and Peter 
asked, “How are they different from the eggs 
at home on the farm?” 

“Because the Nurnberg eggs are really 
watches,” Uncle Lee answered. 

When, at least a week later, Nancy and Peter 
really saw Nurnberg, they were disappointed. 
It looked at first like any other noisy factory 
town except for the castle fortress above its nar¬ 
row streets of high, gabled houses. But they 
walked around on the top of the old castle wall 
one afternoon and saw the moat which had once 
been filled with water but which was now planted 
with flowers. From the red-tiled wooden passage 
on the wall, they could look down upon the busy 
toy factories and the old castles of the merchant 
princes. 



154 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 


NURNBERG LOOKED LIKE ANY FACTORY TOWN 
EXCEPT FOR THE CASTLE FORTRESS 

But what they did enjoy in the fascinating old 
city above all else were two old statues. One 
was that of a bagpiper and one was that of a 
peasant boy with a goose under each arm. 

“His geese were his only wealth when he came 
from the farm to the city,” Uncle Lee offered. 
“By working hard and learning to do his work 
well he made his fortune.” 

Peter laughed. 

“I could get the two geese easily enough,” he 







‘NURNBERG’S HAND’ 


155 


said. “The start would be easy. And I think hard 
work would always bring success.” 

“I wish,” Nancy said, “that Mother could see 
the geese of Niirnberg. But I think she’ll see 
something from Niirnberg anyway in our home 
stores. It’s nice to think that ‘Niirnberg’s hand 
goes through every land.’ ” 



THE BEAR 


“T~) USSIA, the Bear!” growled Uncle Lee play- 
JA' fully, as he helped Nancy and then Peter 
into the back cockpit of the small airplane. 

Nancy tried to laugh. So did Peter. It was 
their first experience in so tiny an airplane. 
Sitting side by side they finally relaxed their 
tight hold on each other. Uncle Lee’s friendly 
back and the sight of the pilot in front of him 
were reassuring. Quite casually they began to 
study the country down below. Plains and more 
plains! Plains everywhere, dotted with strag¬ 
gling villages whose low, gray huts shone with 
red and green roofs! Queer, rounded cupolas of 
churches! Gleaming birches among dark pines! 
Fields and grass and alder bushes along the broad 
rivers! Flocks of crows and more plains! 

The pilot was Mr. Nicholas Lisowsky, a busi¬ 
ness friend of Uncle Lee’s, and he was taking 
them to his home in a Russian village, whose name 
the children could not pronounce. They had read 
about Leningrad, with its hundred bridges over 
the Neva River, of Moscow, now the capital of 
Russia, with its famous Kremlin or walled for¬ 
tress, and of the Volga River, which the Rus¬ 
sians called Mother Volga. But the names of the 
villages sounded like spluttering airplane engines. 


156 



A LITTLE RUSSIAN VILLAGE (SHOWING RUSSIAN 
PEASANT WOMAN DELIVERING MILK) 










158 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“Peter the Great must have been a wonderful 
hero,” Peter MacLaren said. “If it hadn’t been 
for him, Russia would never have gained the 
Baltic provinces from the Swedish people. It 
means a lot, having an outlet to the sea. Pm not 
surprised that they named their seaport after 
him—St. Petersburg. I like it better than Petro- 
grad or Leningrad. Did you know, Nancy, that 
Peter the Great even went to Holland, disguised 
as a shipwright, so that he could learn how to 
build on a delta and drain marshy land? I’ll bet 
the Dutch would have been excited if they had 
known they were teaching a king. It must have 
taken lots of work and courage to build a place 
like that.” 

“Mr. Lisowsky says Lenin was a great savior 
of Russia, too,’’ Nancy offered. “That is why he 
lies in the brand new mausoleum in the Red 
Square in Moscow. From all over Russia people 
come on a pilgrimage to see him. He loved the 
peasants so much that it is small wonder they 
named a city after him. Mr. Lisowsky says that 
there are over a hundred bridges to span the Neva 
and to join the islands. There are wonderful 
palaces to be seen; and Leningrad looks almost 
like any other European city except for the bright- 
colored cupolas of the churches. I should like to 
have seen the statues of pure gold set with jewels 
that beautified the churches before the war. 
Doesn’t it seem strange, Peter, that there is no 
regular Sunday in Russia nowadays?” 



THE BEAR 


159 



Publishers Photo Service 


STREET TRANSPORTATION IS PRACTICALLY THE SAME 
IN MOSCOW NOW AS IT WAS FIFTY YEARS AGO 

“It certainly does seem strange/' Peter agreed, 
with a perplexed frown. “And it would seem 
strange to have a six-day week for us, wouldn't it? 
But it is better than the former Russian five-day 
week, when not everyone had the same holiday." 

Nancy smiled at her brother. 

“Mr. Lisowsky says that Moscow is really more 
Russian than Leningrad," Peter continued. “It 
has wonderful palaces, fine theatres, and many 
rich churches, some of which have been turned 
into clubs, schools and other public buildings. 
There are small wooden huts in the narrow streets 
of the old part of town; and there are no wide, 
lovely boulevards, such as there are in Leningrad. 









160 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Street transportation is practically the same now 
as it was fifty years ago.” 

“How about the Kremlin?” Nancy asked. “I 
was so sleepy when you were all talking last 
night that Uncle Lee sent me to bed.” 

“He said a lot about the Kremlin,” Peter an¬ 
swered, importantly. “There are six gates in the 
big, outer wall. It's the very oldest part of 
Moscow. The guard lets you in at the Gate of 
the Redeemer. You see the Palace, cathedrals, 
monasteries and fantastic churches. There's one 
in which the czars were crowned and one with 
nine cupolas. If you climb to the top of the bell 
tower of Ivan the Terrible, you can see lots of 
cupolas of gold and bright colors.” 

“It must be wonderful!” Nancy exclaimed. 
“What did Mr. Lisowsky say about the Volga 
River?” 

“A great deal,” Peter replied. “They call the 
Volga Mother Volga, just the way they call Mos¬ 
cow Mother Moscow. I think it deserves the name 
all right. It's a fine, peacefully flowing river. 
There are dark firs on the upper part and it 
widens out through the farming country. There 
are five cities, and I promised Uncle Lee I'd try 
to remember them. Let me see! First there's 
Nizhni Novgorod, where the fairs are held and 
where there's lots of trade going on. Kazan is 
the Tartan city, and the people there are Moham¬ 
medans. It's a great trade city, Kazan is—sort 
of oriental. Then there's Samara, in the middle 



THE BEAR 


161 


of the wheat country; and of course Samara 
makes flour. Saratov is a trade town; and, last 
of all, there’s Astrakhan, near the mouth of the 
river. Astrakhan is a good shipping point. Lots 
of little rivers flow into the Volga and bring all 
sorts of things to be sold. It’s a wonderful river 
all right.” 

“You certainly have a marvelous memory, 
Peter,” Nancy exclaimed, in admiration. “I wish 
I might have stayed up later. But it’s fun re¬ 
membering what I did hear.” 

As Nancy spoke she seemed to be back in the 
little inn on the Russian frontier. It was here 
that Mr. Lisowsky had told the children how big 
The Bear was. They had learned that while the 
northern shores were on the Polar Sea, the 
southern provinces were fragrant with orange 
blossoms. 

“Are there no mountains?” Peter had asked. 

“Only on the edges of Russia,” Mr. Lisowsky 
had replied. “There are the Caucasus in the south¬ 
east and the Urals in the east. The Caucasus are 
wild and rugged, while the Urals are richly 
wooded.” 

“What do the farmers grow in Russia?” Nancy 
had asked. “Is it a country of farms or factories? 
I have heard mostly of Russian peasants.”. 

“Russia’s wealth,” Mr. Lisowsky took pains to 
explain, “is in its raw products. I wish I could 
take you and Peter, Nancy, into the warehouses 
of Moscow. There you would see what my coun- 



162 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


try can give to the rest of the world: grain from 
the central plains, metals from the Ural Moun¬ 
tains, wood from the north, wool from the south 
and furs from Siberia. Such furs! Wolf and fox 
and marten, even ermine and sable, fit for kings! 
And queens too!” he had added, smiling at Nancy 
out of his bright blue eyes. 

Uncle Lee had asked, as he ate the good Rus¬ 
sian soup called borsch , “Has the war changed 
things for the better? or are the peasants ill-fed 
and poorly housed?” 

“I cannot say.” Mr. Lisowsky knit his light 
brows, and his blue eyes looked troubled. 
“Changes occur daily. There is a five-year plan 
of the work Russia hopes to do. 

“In the days before the war Russia grew more 
wheat than your United States; also a billion 
bushels of oats and as much rye. It was second 
among all nations in potatoes and sugar beets, 
and it supplied three-fourths of the world’s flax. 
Perhaps the Soviet government will produce 
miracles. I hope so. Joseph Stalin is a man of 
steel. Stalin means steel in Russian, you know.” 

The plane hummed pleasantly. Nancy came 
back to herself with a start. 

On and on they flew. It did not seem possible 
to the children that they had been in the air three 
hours. But now Mr. Lisowsky had begun to swing 
the plane in great circles, lower and lower. Peter 
grinned at Nancy bravely. 

“We’re going to land,” he said. 



THE BEAR 


163 


In a few moments they were bumping along 
the ground, skidding to a stop, and taxi-ing up 
to a hangar. 

No sooner had Uncle Lee lifted Nancy and 
Peter from the cockpit than they were surrounded 
by curious peasants. The girls wore very full 
skirts, embroidered blouses and kerchiefs tied 
over their heads. The boys wore boots, wide 
trousers, gay shirts and girdles; and some few, 
though it was quite warm, displayed high, fur 
hats. Boys and girls were curious and very much 
interested as to how this little party had gained 
permission to visit them. Nancy could not under¬ 
stand what Mr. Lisowsky was saying. 

As she walked along the raised board walk with 
him and Uncle Lee, she asked, “How is Russia 
governed, Mr. Lisowsky? I know there isn't a 
czar any more, and of course I've heard of the 
Soviet." 

“At the head of the government, Nancy," Mr. 
Lisowsky explained, “is what is known as a Cen¬ 
tral Committee. There are nine men, including 
Stalin, the dictator. He is not really a dictator 
since he is very serious and kindly—but he carries 
out his ideas very strictly indeed. Every child 
must learn to read and write in this new Russia, 
for one thing." 

“What do you mean by a new Russia?" Nancy 
asked. 

“It is quite different. The peasant who was 
nothing is to become everything, according to 



164 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


the new government. Once the czar and the rich 
owned everything; now the land, the houses, and 
all the wealth of the country belong to all of us. 
We share everything. It is very hard for those 
who have been used to luxuries. It is equally hard 
to make a fair division, so that all will be satisfied. 
Everybody must work five days out of six. The 
sixth day is a holiday. All must buy food of stores 
owned and run by the government. There are many 
eating places but they are usually overcrowded. 
It will take some time for everything to work 
out. Stalin wants to make the working people 
happy.” 

“The children all look healthy and happy,” 
Nancy offered. 

“There are nurseries to care for them while the 
mother works in factory or field,” Mr. Lisowsky 
explained. “There are also restaurants for chil¬ 
dren and there are hospitals, too. In the cities, 
however, where one large family may be allotted 
only one room, the children may find it uncom¬ 
fortably crowded.” 

Mr. Lisowsky was now leading his guests 
through a neat garden to a single-storied house. 
Nancy saw Peter ahead with Mr. Lisowsky’s 
young brother. A servant in cotton trousers and 
bast shoes appeared in the doorway. Nancy 
paused just a moment to admire the sunflowers 
in the yard and the pots of bright flowers in the 
window. 

Then they were within, being welcomed by Mr. 



THE BEAR 


165 


Lisowsky’s father and mother, tall, fair people in 
simple, dark garb. The house was very pleasant. 
Such lovely, old wood walls and brown-beamed 
ceilings! There was one whitewashed wall with 
its icon or carved image. 

“In many homes nowadays, there are pictures 
of Lenin instead of the icons,” Mr. Lisowsky 
informed Nancy. 

From the ceiling hung an oil lamp. A table 
against the wall was being set for guests, and 
soon the mistress of the house brought in a steam¬ 
ing samovar. It was a copper urn in which the 
water for the tea was kept hot. Uncle Lee pro¬ 
nounced the word sam-o-var, with the accent on 
sam. Tea was passed. The cups were small and 
pretty. Sugar went the rounds and then little 
cakes. 

Peter was most interested in the big stove with 
the tile top. Mr. Lisowsky explained that the 
family slept on the tile top, a very comfortable 
place in winter. The servants slept on the wide 
bench which was built around the stove. 

Peter was trying to visit with Mr. Lisowsky’s 
young brother, but they could not understand each 
other. However, the boy took Peter with him on 
an errand to the bazaar or market place, and 
Peter later told Nancy of the wooden stalls or 
small booths where everything from food to 
household furniture was sold. 

The pleasant master of the house invited the 
little party to stay for a good peasant dinner of 



166 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


black bread, dried fish and cucumbers, but Uncle 
Lee could not wait. 

Saying many thanks for their delightful visit, 
the children again climbed into the cockpit. All 
the neighbors had come out to wave them good- 

by- 

The engines roared. The plane rose into the 
sky. The journey back had begun. 

“I don’t know why they call Russia The Bear,” 
Peter said. 

“There must be pleasant bears,” Nancy ex¬ 
plained. “In spite of the Revolution, all the 
peasants seem happy.” 

“That’s because they’re better off than they 
ever were before,” Peter offered. “The black 
bread and cabbage soup may not be especially 
good, but it’s filling.” 

“Everybody has work, too,” Nancy said. “In 
fact, everybody has to work.” 

“There’s so much to be done under the five- 
year plan,” Peter shouted above the roar of the 
airplane engines. “The Russians are trying to do 
in five years what it’s taken us a hundred years 
to do. Well, good luck to them!” 

Nancy smiled as she shouted back, “Good luck 
to them!” 



GOATS AND CURRANTS AND 
MARBLE COLUMNS 


“mO Greece!” Peter cried. “To the land that 

X gave the world art, literature and love of 
beauty!” 

“Peter, you sound like a book!” Nancy de¬ 
clared. 

Uncle Lee laughingly helped the children into 
the cockpit. It was Nancy’s and Peter’s third 
trip in an airplane. Again Uncle Lee had secured 
the kindly services of Mr. Nicholas Lisowsky. 
But how different the country over which they 
flew this time! No more wide Russian plains, but 
the rugged, mountainous country of Greece. The 
children had known what to expect. 

“Greece is a land of goats and currants,” Mr. 
Lisowsky had told them. 

“Goats and currants!” Nancy had exclaimed. 
“Peter thinks it’s a land of marble ruins. What 
does Mr. Lisowsky mean, Uncle?” 

“He means goatherds and gardeners,” Uncle 
Lee had explained. “I know something of the 
herding. During the winter, the shepherds and 
goatherds pasture their flocks on the small plains. 
The winter rains keep the grass green. After the 
grass dries up, these peasants move into the hills 
with the help of their donkeys, who carry food 


167 


.168 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


and bedding. Then they build huts for shelter, 
and spend their time tending the flocks, gathering 
the scanty fire wood, and pulling up wild hay 
for future use. They live on coarse brown bread, 
sheep’s and goat’s milk, cheese and garlic. You 
children wouldn’t like it. Now, would you?” 

Even through the humming sound of the en¬ 
gine, Nancy could hear the tinkling bells of a 
flock of sheep. Peter pointed out the numerous 
goats on a hillside. A shepherd, leaning on his 
curved staff, stared up at them, and a shepherdess 
ceased her knitting. It looked lovely down there 
and Nancy sighed. But the plane roared on south¬ 
ward to the southern shores of the Gulf of Corinth 
into the currant country. 

It was almost noon when Mr. Lisowsky found 
a landing field, and it was very hot in the sun. 

“Fine weather for currants,” their pilot de¬ 
clared, as he led them through a pleasant grove 
of olive trees and out again into the sunny vine¬ 
yards. As he made his way with Nancy and Peter 
through the ripening currants, he told them about 
the crop. Uncle Lee lifted one of the biggest 
bunches the children had ever seen. 

“No wonder Greece can supply almost the 
whole world with currants!” he said. “There are 
enough on this one bunch for all Mother’s fruit 
cake.” 

“They look like little grapes, not currants,” 
said Peter. “They are so large. I don’t believe 
I’ve ever seen such large currants.” 



GOATS, CURRANTS AND MARBLE COLUMNS 


169 


“How carefully the vines are trained!” Nancy 
remarked. 

“Like everything else that’s good,” Mr. Lisow- 
sky declared, “currants are a lot of work. The 
Greeks begin in January to prune the vines. Then 
they have to spray them to get rid of insects. 
Next, the laborers thin out the leaves, so that the 
sun can get at the grapes. Harvesting begins in 
August. You see they have started. The workers 
gather the grapes in the baskets and then spread 
the bunches on wooden trays to dry. After the 
grapes are dry, they’re taken to the warehouses, 
by boats from the islands and by donkeys from 
around here. There are fine warehouses at Cor¬ 
inth, Patras and Kalamata.” 

“This is a lot like California,” Peter offered. 

“Is it?” asked their pilot. “Did you ever see 
so many olive trees? They raise figs and lemons 
and oranges, too, and as fine almonds and walnuts 
as you would want to see.” 

“Where are all the workers?” Peter asked. 

“Taking their noon nap, their siesta,” Uncle 
Lee put in. “They work early and late now. 
Well, it ought to be a good season for currants. 
The sun’s hot enough.” 

“It’s too warm,” Nancy complained. “I always 
thought of currants as belonging to the winter 
months.” 

“That’s when we eat ’em, all right,” Peter 
agreed. “0 Nancy, Mr. Lisowsky says they’ve 
even got a currant railroad in Greece.” 



170 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


“He’s joking!” Nancy accused. 

“No, he isn’t,” Uncle Lee declared, as he led 
the children under a dark-leaved olive tree to 
escape the hot sun. “The railway to Kalamata is 
called the currant railroad, because it’s in the cur¬ 
rant country.” 

“Aren’t there any farms at all?” Peter asked. 
“Don’t they raise grain, like we do back home?” 

“Some grain is raised in Thessaly,” Mr. Lisow- 
sky replied. “Old-fashioned methods, with oxen 
treading out the grain, are still used. Macedonia 
raises^ some rice and Thrace has a few farmers. 
The Greeks import a great deal. There is no 
manufacturing to speak of, either. It is, as I 
said, a country of goats and currants. And then 
there is Athens!” 

“Then there is Athens!” Uncle Lee repeated 
and smiled enthusiastically. 

Mr. Lisowsky returned in his plane alone, and 
Uncle Lee took Peter and Nancy to Athens by 
rail. 

“I know a lot about Athens,” Peter declared. 
“It’s several miles from the sea and the first city 
was built on a rocky hill called the Acropolis. All 
the first houses and the fortress were built here. 
Later the Greeks erected temples of beautiful 
white marble. Then, when the city outgrew the 
Acropolis, the artists built marble temples half¬ 
way down the hill. The Parthenon on the Acro¬ 
polis was their finest temple.” 

“Part of it still stands, as you know, Peter,” 




GOATS, CURRANTS AND MARBLE COLUMNS 


171 



Ewing Galloway 


THOSE WHITE MARBLE RUINS ON THE ACROPOLIS 
HAVE NEVER BEEN MATCHED FOR BEAUTY 

Uncle Lee offered. “You’ll see some of those ex¬ 
quisite milk-white marble columns. With all the 
progress that the world has made, those white 
marble ruins on the Acropolis have never been 
matched for beauty. And no one has been able to 
create such perfect statuary as the Greeks. You 
children will like even modern Athens. Parts of 
it are really lovely. Buildings are still erected of 
white marble. You’ll like the names of the streets, 
Nancy. They’re named Apollo and Jupiter and 
Venus, after the mythical deities. Hermes is the 





172 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


shopping street, because Hermes was the god of 
trade.” 

Athens was a surprise. True, the marble build¬ 
ings were there, just as Uncle Lee had promised 
them. And the Parthenon, with its exquisite, 
milk-white columns made the children catch their 
breath in delight. They had expected to find mag¬ 
nificent ruins. But they were not prepared to 
find such a queer place as the street of red shoes, 
where red leather shoes with turned-up toes and 
pompons were sold to customers. 

In the evening the street of the coppersmiths 
was bright with the light from burning forges, 
and Peter could hardly be drawn away as he 
watched a coppersmith mend a great coffee dip¬ 
per. Nancy liked best of all the street of candles, 
where she learned that the Greeks used candles 
not only for church services but also for festivals. 

Nancy and Peter both enjoyed watching the 
peddlers with their trays of food. Often they 
stopped with Uncle Lee to watch milkmen milk 
cows right at the housewives’ doors. They stared 
at the turkeys and geese being driven through the 
streets, and they were most amazed at the cook- 
shops on wheels that stopped at houses to permit 
housewives to cook their meals. 

“Everybody seems to live in the streets,” Nancy 
said. 

“Fuel is scarce,” Uncle Lee explained. “Most 
of the houses have no fires. If you are cold in 
your house, you go out and sit in the sun.” 



ADOBES AND PLAZAS 


V ALENCIA, on the east coast of Spain, over¬ 
looks the blue Mediterranean. It is often 
called the Garden of Spain, and its dates, figs, 
citrons and flowers are famed throughout the 
country. This was the Spain of which Nancy 
and Peter had dreamed. The gardens, begun by 
the Moors, had been tenderly cared for by the 
Spanish, and the result was sheer beauty. 

But these Moorish gardens, Peter and Nancy 
soon learned, were not intended simply to be a 
delight to the eye. Workmen had terraced the 
hills and built irrigating ditches to carry water 
from rivers and mountains so that the land would 
yield abundantly. The gardens repaid them for 
their work with enough foodstuffs to supply the 
entire region. Wheat and rice and sugar were 
easily grown. Oranges and grapes ripened in the 
sun. Figs and dates became plump and tasty. 

It was with regret that Nancy and Peter left 
Valencia for Madrid, in the province of Castile. 
Madrid was in the middle of Spain. Since the 
railroads were most unsatisfactory, Uncle Lee 
had bought a car for a small sum. In the early 
dawn of a Monday morning it chugged noisily 
along a road between beautiful limousines and 
ox-carts. Nancy looked back at the seaport. 


173 


174 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


She would never forget Valencia, nor that other 
seaport further north on the east coast of Spain, 
the city of Barcelona. 

Barcelona wasn’t a garden spot like Valencia, 
but Uncle Lee had insisted that it was the center 
of a manufacturing region. Its factories turned 
out cotton, silk, linen and leather goods, as well as 
paper and metal products. Peter and Nancy had 
been more interested in the statue of Columbus in 
the harbor of Barcelona than in its factories. 
Barcelona had been businesslike, Valencia beau¬ 
tiful, and Castile would be romantic, of course. 
At least, so reasoned Nancy. Peter said all he 
could think of when people said “Castile” was 
soap. But Nancy thought of beauty and royalty. 

“Castile’s really a high plateau in the middle of 
Spain,” Uncle Lee cut into Nancy’s dreaming. 
“You mustn’t expect too much, children. You’ll 
find mostly dry plains and little trickles of rivers 
with sandy basins. The small towns are just 
groups of huts, and they’re far apart at that. 
Although the peasants have fairly large holdings, 
they make meager livings.” 

In spite of Uncle Lee’s warning, neither Peter 
nor Nancy were prepared for the sight of the 
first little adobe house they saw. It was such a 
sad-looking little house, made of sun-hardened 
bricks and mud, with practically no windows. 

“It’s so terribly hot.” Nancy fanned herself 
with her hat. “Why aren’t there bigger windows 
in that little hut?” 



ADOBES AND PLAZAS 


175 


“Because, Nancy,” Uncle Lee explained, “it’s 
just as cold here in winter as it is hot in summer. 
As for that house, it’s one of the best. Those huts 
beyond, as you see, are much smaller and you 
may believe they have dirt floors.” 

Uncle Lee brought the car to a stop. The 
radiator was steaming. He asked a ragged but 
polite Spanish boy for water. The boy invited 
them all into a little mud house, and they accepted 
the invitation to get out of the sun very gladly 
indeed. 

They found themselves in a hall which evidently 
served both as a living and dining room. At one 
side of the hall was a kitchen with a large fire¬ 
place. Nancy sat down on one of the wooden 
benches in front of the fireplace. The floor, which 
was of wood, was freshly scrubbed. On the walls 
were earthen dishes and polished pots and pans. 
Uncle Lee explained that the bedrooms were on 
the other side of the hall. 

“Where are the father and mother?” Nancy 
asked. 

“The father tends the sheep,” said Uncle Lee. 
“You see, the family depends on the sheep for 
milk, cheese and clothing. The mother has gone 
to gather esparto grass, probably, out of which 
she will weave shoes and baskets.” 

“I suppose even the children must work hard,” 
Peter guessed. 

“Indeed, they must,” Uncle Lee agreed. “The 
grain crop is always scanty on account of the 



176 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


dryness. What there is of it is threshed by hand, 
or rather, by foot, I should say. The children 
pound out the grain by jumping up and down on 
it in a threshing barrow.” 

Nancy and Peter did not laugh. They felt 
sorry for the little Castilian children. 

When the car was ready again, Peter and 
Nancy climbed in and waved good-by to the polite 
Spanish boy. Now they were prepared for other 
little mud houses, scanty fields, small, dried-up 
river beds and villages which were just a few 
miserable huts around a main plaza. But they 
were surprised at the cheerful smiles, the polite 
manners, and the joyfulness with which all the 
peasants greeted them. Under the broad-brimmed 
hats they saw nothing but gleams of white teeth 
and broad smiles. 

At last, in the middle of this dry plain, they 
saw the outskirts of the city of Madrid, the 
capital of Spain. It was afternoon and unbear¬ 
ably hot in the sun. In the shade one could feel 
the cool breeze from the distant mountains. The 
car entered a wide boulevard, the Gran Avenida 
de la Libertad. It was indeed lovely, with its 
inner and outer highways and the wide, tree-lined 
walks for pedestrians lying in between. There 
were fine plazas, or parks, all the way along, 
adorned with fountains and statuary. But the 
street was almost empty. 

Peter asked, “What’s happened to the people?” 

“They’re taking their siestas , or daily naps,” 



ADOBES AND PLAZAS 


177 


Uncle Lee explained. “Shops are closed between 
one and three. Too hot to work! Well, here’s our 
hotel.” 

At the desk of the palatial hotel the three 
travelers learned that dinner would not be served 
until seven-thirty, when the Avenida would be 
alive with people. A courteous gentleman sug¬ 
gested that they refresh themselves in the patio 
before going to their rooms. 

“Wish I was old enough to wear a high comb 
and a mantilla,” Nancy whispered, as they sat 
down in the patio, where several Spanish ladies 
were sipping cool drinks. “Then I’d go call on the 
king.” 

“King Alphonso is in exile,” Peter reminded his 
sister. “Spain is a republic now, and the people 
will use the palaces for government offices and 
museums. Once before, in 1873, so Uncle Lee 
says, the people overthrew their monarchy, but 
that republic lasted only two years. Isn’t that 
right, Uncle Lee?” 

“Correct, Peter!” Uncle Lee clapped his hands 
to call a waiter. “I’ll treat you children to a 
horchata before you take your naps.” 

“What’s a horchata?” Peter and Nancy asked 
in one voice. 

They soon found out that it was a cool, creamy 
drink with a delicate almond flavor and that the 
sweet, rolled wafers served with it were called 
barquillos. 

“Madrid,” Uncle Lee explained, while they 



178 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


sipped their drinks contentedly, “will never be¬ 
come a great industrial city, because there are no 
great cities near it to use its produce. It does 
manufacture a great deal of leather goods and 
also many products needed by the city itself. Per¬ 
haps an improved railway system would help it.” 

“Perhaps an improved climate would help it 
most of all,” Peter remarked. “And if the Cas¬ 
tilian farmers had realized that the birds were 
their friends instead of their enemies, they 
wouldn’t have cut down all the trees. Then 
Madrid wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a 
treeless plateau that looks like baked, red mud.” 

“We shall go north to Asturias when we leave 
Madrid, Peter,” Uncle Lee consoled t the grumbling 
little boy. “You’ll find Asturias as wet and cold 
as Madrid is dry and hot.” 

It did not seem as though any part of Spain 
could be wet and cold; but, as the little car 
chugged northward, Peter and Nancy soon saw 
the broad-brimmed hats of the south give way to 
blue woolen caps. They were glad to follow the 
examples of the Asturians of northwest Spain and 
get out their woolens. 



PATIOS AND A GREAT ROCK 


T HE peasants in Asturia seemed to have very 
small farms. The houses, however, were built 
of wood from the forests to the north. 

Uncle Lee abandoned his car at the edge of a 
little village of a few houses, and he and the 
children trudged along the muddy road. 

“An adobe house would be washed away in this 
climate,” Peter declared, as he lifted one mud- 
caked foot after the other. “But I like this better 
than the heat of Madrid. Are all the villages as 
small as this one, Uncle Lee? You can count the 
houses.” 

“Yes. IPs a country of villages,” Uncle Lee 
said. “You’ll probably see the first house of the 
next village as soon as you’re out of sight of this 
one. There are a few larger villages with mar¬ 
kets. Each landholder here raises corn and hay, 
and each one owns a cow. The cow supplies the 
household with milk, butter and cheese. Apple 
and cherry orchards provide fruit, and nearly 
every yard has a chestnut tree. No matter how 
small the farm, there are always chickens and 
sometimes a few pigs.” 

“Seems funny to see two-story houses again,” 
said Peter. 

“And wooden shoes! Uncle, those people have 


179 


180 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


on wooden shoes!” Nancy insisted. “Well, it's 
small wonder. Wish I had wooden shoes on my¬ 
self. My leather shoes are soaked. And I hear a 
bagpipe. Isn’t it funny, Uncle, to see a bit of 
Holland and hear a bit of Scotland in Spain?” 

“The wooden shoes are real enough,” Peter re¬ 
marked. “But you’re imagining bagpipes.” 

“No, Nancy’s right,” said Uncle Lee. “I think 
some musician was practicing back there. The 
Asturians do use the drum and bagpipe during 
festivals.” 

A few days later Uncle Lee turned his muddy 
car south again. This time they were bound 
for Andalusia in southern Spain, the province 
in which was located Seville. Seville! After¬ 
wards Nancy vowed she would never forget the 
scent of Seville’s roses, and Peter vowed he’d 
never forget the Street of Serpents, the principal 
business street of Seville, with its many wind¬ 
ings. All three visitors vowed they would never 
forget the heat. Uncle Lee led the children down 
the narrow Street of Serpents. Awnings were 
stretched from one side to the other to keep out 
the hot sunlight. The shops were fascinating, 
but everywhere one looked were idle men. 

“Andalusia is a province of rich and poor,” 
said Uncle Lee at breakfast the morning after 
their arrival. “It’s a land of extremes. The 
entire country is held in big holdings and the 
poor in the cities wait about for work on the 
land. They are hired to harvest olives in De- 




Ewing Galloway , 

PETER VOWED HE’D NEVER FORGET THE 
STREET OF SERPENTS 











182 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


cember, to weed gardens in March, to cut grain 
in August and to sow seed in September. But 
men are often out of work and the wages are 
low. In most families the mothers and chil¬ 
dren must help out. Yet, in spite of everything, 
the people are gay. You will hear tambourines 
and the sound of castanets, and at every festival 
you will see bright clothes and colored ribbons.” 

“But Seville looks prosperous,” Peter insisted. 

“It is,” said Uncle Lee. “In spite of its many 
poor, it's a great trade city.” 

Late that afternoon Nancy and Peter saw 
the beautiful side of life in Seville. They had 
tea in a lovely patio, fragrant with flowers. A 
fountain in the center of the patio, about which 
the white-walled house was built, showed rain¬ 
bow gleams. A group of girls coming from a 
costume party wore the high headdress and man¬ 
tilla of an earlier day, now rarely seen. 

“Well, it’s Cadiz next, then Gibraltar, and then 
France,” Uncle Lee said, as he took another cup 
of the fragrant tea from his hostess. 

“I don't know which I like best,” Peter said 
quietly to Nancy, “Uncle Lee's friends who are 
so kind to us here in Seville, or the peasant boy 
in the little adobe house in Castile.” 

“Well,” said Nancy, softly, “they're both 
Spanish.” 

Cadiz was a quaint old city, full of narrow 
and winding streets. The children enjoyed their 
short stay here and looked with interest on the 



PATIOS AND A GREAT ROCK 


183 



Ewing Galloway 

A GROUP OF SPANISH GIRLS 

round-eyed Spanish children, who gathered in 
groups to watch the little Americans. 

Two days later as he stood at the rail of the 
little Mediterranean steamer between Uncle Lee 
and Nancy, Peter said, “Gibraltar isn’t Spanish, 
is it, Uncle Lee?” 

“No, Gibraltar isn’t Spanish,” Uncle Lee an¬ 
swered. “A good many countries have fought 
for it, because it’s the key to the Mediterran¬ 
ean, as you’ve probably learned in school. Great 
Britain took it from Spain in the eighteenth 
century and has held it ever since. The English 












184 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


settlement is at the foot of the rock on the 
western side. We’ll climb it this afternoon.” 

The rock of Gibraltar now rose gray and precip¬ 
itous before them. On the Spanish side rose 
bare hills and on the African side, bluish hills 
with snow caps. 

Uncle Lee was as good as his word. The 
little party climbed up the west side of the 
great rock and stood looking awesomely at the 
view. To the north lay a sandy stretch of land, 
which Uncle Lee said was neutral territory. 
Beyond the strip of land were sentry boxes and 
Spanish soldiers. The children faced about to 
see the bay full of ships, some coming, some 
going. Uncle Lee explained that Gibraltar was 
England’s most important coaling station. 

“How’d you like to go inside?” Uncle Lee asked 
suddenly. 

“Inside?” Peter did not understand. 

“Inside?” Nancy echoed. “You don’t mean 
inside the Rock of Gibraltar, do you?” 

“That’s just what I do mean,” Uncle Lee an¬ 
swered. “Of course the east side of the rock is 
almost perpendicular, but the north, south and 
west sides of Gibraltar are full of passages where 
guns are hidden. Want to come?” 

The children accepted breathlessly. 

As Nancy stood in one of the passageways 
looking through a hole in the rock that served 
as a window, she said, “It seems very strange to 
be inside of the Rock of Gibraltar and looking 




ROUND-EYED SPANISH CHILDREN GATHERED IN 
GROUPS TO WATCH THE LITTLE AMERICANS 

















186 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


down on the blue Mediterranean. I wonder what 
the children back home would say if they knew.” 

“They’d say,” said Peter solemnly, “that you 
must have used magic to get inside.” 

“Well, I’d say I had a magic uncle to get 
me in,” Nancy conceded. 

“I wonder how far it is from the most southern 
point in Europe to the most northern point in 
Africa,” Peter puzzled. 

“Only nine miles,” Uncle Lee spoke up. “Once, 
long ago, Peter, there probably was a range of 
mountains that connected the two continents. 
Now a good, swift current flows between from the 
Mediterranean. It’s a tideless sea, always flow¬ 
ing westward.” 

“I should think it would soon dry up!” Nancy 
exclaimed. 

“No chance of that!” Uncle Lee declared. “The 
current you see flows on the surface. But under¬ 
neath there’s a hidden Gulf Stream flowing back.” 

“Gibraltar’s the most wonderful surprise to 
me,” Nancy said, her eyes beaming. “I’d always 
thought of it as a barren rock—but I never saw 
so many wild flowers. What are they, Uncle 
Lee?” 

“Oh, fig trees, locusts, orange blossoms and 
clematis, I think,” Uncle Lee answered. “And of 
course you recognized the red geraniums.” 

“Just like home!” both children said at once. 

They looked just a wee bit sober, thinking of 
the red geraniums in the farm kitchen at home. 



A PURCHASE IN PARIS 


T HE children's first excursion into the city 
of Paris occurred early one evening. Uncle 
Lee took Nancy by one hand and Peter by the 
other and led them out to the quays by the old 
pension , or boarding house, where they were 
living. The air was fresh and clean, and lights 
began to twinkle along the quays and bridges and 
on the boats. 

People passed, chatting happily, the men in 
blue jackets and caps, the women in clean frocks 
with big aprons, and the children in simple 
clothes such as Nancy wore to play in. The 
women wore no hats, and their dark hair was 
simply knotted at the napes of their necks. This 
first view of Paris was not at all what Nancy 
expected, and Uncle Lee was disturbing her ideas, 
too, by very practical remarks. 

“Paris,” he was saying to Peter, “is the great¬ 
est manufacturing center in all France. It can 
be reached by all places on the Seine and the 
Marne and by boats from the North Sea. It's 
a railroad center, too. And you'd be surprised 
at the number of canals that have been built 
between rivers, with the sole idea of sending 
produce into Paris. From the little Isle of the 
City, which was settled by people that Caesar 


187 



I 


VIEW OF PARIS SHOWING BRIDGES OVER THE SEINE RIVER 









A PURCHASE IN PARIS 


189 


called the Parisii, it has grown to the Paris of 
to-day. Even in the very earliest times, Paris 
had grain for bread, grapes for wine and wood 
for fuel close by. It’s always been a very for¬ 
tunate city.” 

“But I never thought of Paris as being a 
practical city,” Nancy objected. “I’m almost dis¬ 
appointed.” 

“Your idea is partly right, Nancy,” Uncle Lee 
said, smiling down at his niece. “Paris differs 
from London, for example, in having small fac¬ 
tories instead of large ones. These small fac¬ 
tories turn out things noted for their beauty, their 
design or their quality. They make tapestries, 
shawls, jewelry, hats, silk stockings, bags and 
perfumes. These things may not be necessary, 
but they make life more delightful.” 

“And they make us much happier,” Nancy 
added. 

Uncle Lee’s work had kept him in Europe much 
longer than he had expected; but it wasn’t hard 
for Peter and Nancy to be reconciled. Paris 
was gay and delightful, and, although Uncle Lee 
insisted that they have a tutor for part of each 
day, there was still much time to wander about. 
Nearly every afternoon saw them in the Place 
de la Concorde, the largest and most beautiful 
square in the world. The summer flowers were 
still beautiful, and the great stone statues that 
represented the chief towns of France always 
had a fascination for the children. 



190 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Peter was particularly drawn to the marble 
fountains and the Egyptian obelisk, or square 
shaft with Egyptian hieroglyphics, or picture¬ 
writing, that had been brought from Luxor in 
Egypt. 

The spot where the obelisk now stood had 
once been the scene of mob violence during the 
French Revolution. The French Revolution was 
a cruel civil war of the poverty-stricken masses 
against the rich aristocrats and royalty. Here 
it was that thousands had suffered death at the 
hands of infuriated revolutionists. Here the 
French king Louis XVI and the unfortunate 
young queen, Marie Antoinette, had met their 
terrible fate. Nancy went every day to see the 
statue of Marie Antoinette, with the fresh flowers 
laid there in remembrance. Both Peter and 
Nancy thought, too, of the many American sol¬ 
diers who had visited the Place de la Concorde 
and had never again returned from the trenches. 

One fine afternoon Uncle Lee took the children 
in a cab for a drive along that splendid avenue, 
the Champs Ely sees. Uncle Lee said the word 
champs meant field; and that this fashionable 
avenue, with its well-dressed men and women, 
its nurses in uniform, and its purring limousines, 
had once been a field outside the city. Elysee 
was a girl's name. It happened that a lively party 
of young folks were celebrating a holiday by stag¬ 
ing a costume parade down the avenue. 

Next day they visited the Arc de Triomphe de 




Underwood & Underwood 

UNCLE LEE TOOK THE CHILDREN FOR A DRIVE 
ALONG THE CHAMPS ELYSEES 





192 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Paul’s Photos 

A COSTUME PARADE DOWN THE AVENUE 

L'Etoile , the largest triumphal arch in the world. 
There was a military review in front of the 
arch that day, and the companies of soldiers in 
their uniforms moved as one through many drills. 
Many roads lead out from the arch, as though 
it were a central sun. For just a few moments 
the children stared at the immense statuary, 
depicting the successes of Napoleon and his gen¬ 
erals, and then the carriage moved on. But both 
Nancy and Peter seemed to see column after 
column of khaki colored uniforms marching under 
the arch. 

And always, no matter where they rode or 
walked—or flew—they saw the Eiffel Tower in 




A PURCHASE IN PARIS 


193 


the distance. They often said they would miss 
it when they came to leave. And one day they 
saw a zeppelin in flight over Paris passing the 
tower. It did not pass over the tower, which 
rises to so great a height, but only near the lower 
tiers of the great structure. 

Peter liked to visit the tomb of Napoleon best 
of all. It was in a small building in the Invalides. 
The Invalides consisted of buildings erected by 
Louis XIV as a refuge for his old soldiers, the 
invalids. It was planned to hold seven thousand, 
but it is too small to hold all who need it now. 
In the chapel whose dome the children had often 
admired from a distance lay all that remained of 
the great conqueror Napoleon. Peter often stared 
down on the tomb of brown marble, beneath the 
dome, and admired the white marble statues repre¬ 
senting the different captured cities. Nancy be¬ 
side him, would lift her eyes to the altar. At 
the sides of the altar were yellow stained-glass 
windows through which the golden colored sun 
shone on the blue marble pillars. Peter said it 
looked as though the sun were always rising on 
Napoleon’s tomb. 

The chapel in the rear contained all the flags 
carried in Napoleon’s campaigns, old flags, tat¬ 
tered and torn and faded. Peter’s eyes saw hordes 
of men fighting valiantly. When he looked at the 
remnants of glory, he heard battle cries. And 
when he viewed Napoleon’s gray coat and his 
favorite battered, soiled, worn and faded old 



194 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Underwood & Underwood 

THERE WAS A MILITARY REVIEW IN FRONT OF 
THE ARC DE TRIOMPHE THAT DAY 

hats, the great conqueror seemed very close and 
very human. 

It was cold dining on the boulevards, but some 
people still enjoyed it. Uncle Lee was one of them. 
Peter and Nancy never tired of the crowds at the 
little tables, and one afternoon they left the 
Champs Elysees to drive out to the Bois de Bou¬ 
logne , a palace for pleasure in a natural forest. 
This forest boasts of an upper lake and cascades, 
a lower lake and beautiful trees and walks. In the 
wonderful restaurants Nancy and Peter enjoyed 






A PURCHASE IN PARIS 


195 



THEY DROVE TO THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE, A PLEASURE 
PALACE IN A NATURAL FOREST 

such cantaloupe as they had never imagined 
existed. 

Uncle Lee had promised that on his first day 
of leisure he would take Peter and Nancy over 
to the Bon Marche to shop. Bon Marche, he ex¬ 
plained, meant a cheap market, or, as we would 
say in America, a Golden Rule store. Madam 
Cambon, who ran the pension at which they lived, 
gave them much advice as to where to buy and 
how to get bargains. She was almost like a 
mother to the children. Although she made won- 





196 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


derful soup and stews, Peter missed his mother’s 
pies, and Nancy longed for turkey and cranberry 
sauce at Thanksgiving time. Madam seemed to 
sense that they might be lonesome around holi¬ 
day time. 

“You are happy in Paris?” she asked politely. 
“I can perhaps procure for you the good Thanks¬ 
giving dinner. What do you like?” 

“We always have turkey and cranberries at 
nome,” Peter put in. 

Madam Cambon smiled in her gracious man¬ 
ner. 

“I procure the turkey,” she promised. “Maybe 
I find also the cranberry in Paris.” 

Peter and Nancy forgot for the time being 
their Thanksgiving plans when they shopped at 
the Bon Marche. There was such a jumble of 
things to choose from. But Peter finally picked 
out some wooden soldiers, and Nancy chose a big 
doll that could walk, talk and roll her eyes. When 
Madam Cambon heard the “Mama! Mama!” of 
the doll, she came running out into the hall. She 
laughed heartily at her mistake. 



A THANKSGIVING DINNER 


O N Thanksgiving morning Uncle Lee took the 
children to church at the Cathedral of Notre 
Dame where, with full hearts, they offered up 
thanksgiving. They were almost alone in the 
cathedral, but they said the Lord’s prayer in 
French, as their tutor had taught them. As they 
left the cathedral, they took a last look at the 
gargoyles which, perched far up on the edges of 
the roof, seemed to watch over the city with wist¬ 
ful, half-human faces. 

Then they took a last look around in the Louvre 
galleries. These galleries had once been a palace, 
and they were very beautiful. At the end of one 
of the corridors they came upon the Venus de Milo , 
that beautiful piece of Greek sculpture which art¬ 
ists pronounce perfect feminine beauty. Nancy 
and Peter had both seen casts of the statue, but 
these copies gave no idea of the beauty of the 
original marble. They paused before Millet’s 
The Gleaners , and they were glad to see the 
peasants of the little farms of France. That was 
a picture that Peter could understand. He was a 
trifle puzzled about the Mona Lisa. This smiling 
young woman, whose eyes seemed to follow one, 
looked to be very much alive. But Peter won¬ 
dered what she was thinking about. Leonardo 


197 


198 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


da Vinci had worked four years on this picture 
and then had not finished it. Once it had been 
stolen, and Nancy said she would have been very 
much disappointed had it not been recovered. 

When the children and Uncle Lee returned to 
the pension, they found a happy, flustered Madam 
Cambon. 

“I have procure,” she confided, “even the cran¬ 
berry.” 

They sat down to the feast, the tasty, flavor- 
some soup, the well-roasted turkey, with chestnut 
stuffing, the delicate vegetables and green salad 
and a pudding. There was, however, no sign of 
cranberries. 

At last Madam rose from her table. 

“I shall bring in the treat myself,” she con¬ 
fided. 

Peter looked at Nancy and Nancy looked at 
Peter. Uncle Lee grinned at both of them. 

Presently Madam appeared. She had three 
small dishes on a tray. She placed one small dish 
before each of her boarders with a grand gesture. 

Nancy, Peter and Uncle Lee gazed down at 
their dishes. Then they stared. In each dish lay 
a few hard, red little cranberries, uncooked . 

“I do not like them so very well,” Madam com¬ 
mented. “Perhaps they are like the olive. One 
learns to like them.” 

Uncle Lee looked at the children and thanked 
Madam for all her pains. Peter manfully bit into 
the sour berries, and Nancy ate hers like a lady. 




Publishers Photo Service 


THE GARGOYLES SEEMED TO WATCH OVER THE 
CITY WITH WISTFUL, HALF-HUMAN FACES 





200 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


‘Tm proud of you,” said Uncle Lee, after they 
had gone back to their rooms. “You never gave 
Madam a hint that she hadn't pleased you im¬ 
mensely. I'm thankful that my little niece and 
big nephew know how to be kind, which is true 
politeness.” 

“We couldn't be ungrateful, Uncle Lee,” Nancy 
spoke up. “It was sweet of her to take so much 
pains to find the cranberries. And you've done 
so many things for us, almost like magic.” 

“Well, magic won't cook cranberries,” Peter 
exclaimed. “When I get home for Christmas I’m 
going to eat ten sauce dishes full up with cooked 
cranberries.” 

The children couldn't leave Paris without look¬ 
ing at the wonderful city from the Eiffel Tower. 
From the day of their arrival they had watched 
it, with its great light at the top, faintly etched 
against gray skies or sharply clear against blue. 

“How high is it?” Peter asked, as he and Nancy 
stepped into the taxi with Uncle Lee to go to the 
Champs de Mars . 

“It's nine hundred and eighty-four feet high,” 
Uncle Lee answered, “and it's built of iron. Cost 
about a million dollars to build it, I believe. I 
want you children to remember that the first 
telephone message from America to Europe was 
dispatched to the wireless station on the Eiffel 
Tower.” 

Later that afternoon Peter and Nancy stood 
beside Uncle Lee on the third platform of the 




TJnderwood & Underwood 


AND ALWAYS . . . THEY SAW THE EIFFEL TOWER 
IN THE DISTANCE 








202 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


Tower, which they had reached by means of ele¬ 
vators, and looked out over the towers, spires, 
domes and housetops of the great city. They saw 
the silver ribbon of the Seine and the hills beyond. 

“If Christmas wasn't coming, I'd like to stay 
in Paris another month," Peter declared. 

“Let's stop for just one more little visit in the 
Louvre," Nancy begged. “I want to sit in that 
room that the Venus de Milo occupies all by her¬ 
self and look again at that wonderful marble 
against the dark curtains." 

In the autumn sunshine the little party entered 
the Louvre and came out into a lovely park-like 
square that Uncle Lee called the Place du Car¬ 
rousel. 

“Oh! Oh!" cried both Nancy and Peter. 

Before them stood Paul Bartlett's statue of 
Lafayette, which the school children of America 
had paid for out of their pennies and presented 
to France. 

“Uncle Lee," Peter declared, “this is one of the 
very best surprises you ever gave us." 

And Nancy silently smiled her thanks. 



CHRISTMAS BEST AT HOME 


T HEY were going home! Only three hours 
from London to Liverpool on the west coast! 
Only six days’ sailing and a seventh to be used 
up at Quebec getting through the customs and 
buying transportation. Only four days on the 
train! How Peter and Nancy beamed, and how 
constantly Uncle Lee wore that wide, pleasant 
grin of his! 

“What’s Liverpool like?” Peter asked, as the 
swift train sped through the country. 

“It’s just a big modern city,” Nancy put in. 
“They admit in London that it’s the biggest sea¬ 
port in the British Isles.” 

“But what made it such a big city?” Peter per¬ 
sisted. 

This time it was Uncle Lee who answered. 
“Well, Peter,” Uncle Lee said, “we might as 
well begin at the beginning. In Queen Elizabeth’s 
time Liverpool was a very poor little town. 
After the Great Plague and the Fire of London 
merchants left London and went to Liverpool to 
carry on their trade.” 

“Liverpool ships a lot of coal, doesn’t it?” Peter 
interrupted. 

“I’m coming to that,” said Uncle Lee. “Liver¬ 
pool’s prosperity really began with the digging of 


203 


204 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 



Ewing Galloway 

LIVERPOOL IS THE BIGGEST SEAPORT 
IN THE BRITISH ISLES 

a great canal. It was called the Duke of Bridge¬ 
water's canal, and it connected Liverpool with the 
new towns rising up in south Lancashire. Here 
the coal trade was growing." 

“Is Liverpool famous just for coal, Uncle Lee?" 
Nancy asked. 

“No, indeed, Nancy," Uncle Lee answered. 
“After the invention of spinning machinery and 
the steam engine, Liverpool began to manufacture 
all sorts of goods. Many a ship from our country 
brings in cotton and other raw materials. It 







CHRISTMAS BEST AT HOME 


205 


wasn’t long before Liverpool built railways to 
Manchester and London. Then they dredged 
their river and constructed a tunnel under the 
river bed. Where do you suppose Liverpool gets 
its water?” 

“From the river,” Peter guessed. 

“From springs,” Nancy guessed. 

“Both wrong,” Uncle Lee said. “The water 
comes from a lake in Wales. And it’s piped a 
good many miles.” 

When the children drove through the city to 
the docks with Uncle Lee, they saw a modern 
city of fine public buildings, houses and shops. 
But since their boat was to sail at one o’clock, 
there was no time in which to visit the city. Be¬ 
sides, it was to the great ships in the harbor that 
their eyes turned. 

The ocean trip was delightful and uneventful. 
The first sight of the American flag on American 
land sent little shivers of joy up and down their 
spinal columns. 

The railway journey back home seemed end¬ 
less. Nancy and Peter put on their wraps while 
the train was still fifty miles from home. Then 
they gathered their luggage into their arms and 
sat stiffly on the edge of their seats. Uncle Lee 
leaned gently over them and said, “Well, I guess 
home’s the best place on earth after all, isn’t it? 
What do you say?” 

They both nodded, afraid to speak because of 
a sudden tightening of their throats. In the 





206 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


months they had been gone, this last mile was the 
longest trip they had ever taken. 

Daddy and Mother were at the station with the 
big sleigh. Peter and Nancy were hugged and 
kissed, and there were tears of sheer joy. Uncle 
Lee helped to tuck his charges into the sled with 
fur robes, and they drove out over the snowy 
roads. There was a flutter of snowflakes in the air 
and, when the big square farmhouse came in 
sight, Nancy and Peter both uttered squeals of 
joy. 

“0 Peter, we’ll see our cows like the Holsteins 
in Holland,” Nancy cried. 

“And the Swiss milk cow, too, Nancy,” Peter 
added. 

“The doves! 0 Peter, see them now, flying 
down from the barn!” Nancy squealed. “Remem¬ 
ber Saint Mark’s Square, Peter?” 

“I can wear my snowshoes now, Nancy,” Peter 
declared. “It’ll be as much fun as the wooden 
shoes were. Remember how I walked on that 
cobble-stoned street near The Hague in Holland?” 

“See here,” put in Uncle Lee, “it seems to me 
that you two are going to have more fun right 
here at home than you had on my trip. Doesn’t 
pay to take you traveling.” 

Peter and Nancy were used to their Magic 
Uncle’s banter by this time. 

“Why, Uncle Lee,” Nancy exclaimed, “you’re 
every bit as happy-looking as we feel.” 

“Uncle Lee is even looking at the woodpile!” 



CHRISTMAS BEST AT HOME 


207 


Peter’s laughter brimmed over. “I never saw 
anyone who liked to work in a wood lot like Uncle 
Lee.” 

All the relatives were home for Christmas, and 
Nancy and Peter ran from one to the other. 
Everyone talked and laughed in happy, noisy con¬ 
fusion. Daddy came in laden with luggage and 
packages. 

Suddenly through the din came a different sort 
of sound. 

“Mama! Mama!” 

“Good gracious!” said one of the aunts. “We’ve 
waked the babies with all our chatter. I thought 
they were all asleep. It usually takes a lot to 
wake them from their naps.” 

She started upstairs, but Nancy pulled her 
back. 

“It’s only my Paris doll,” Nancy explained. 
“Daddy tilted the box.” 

Then she brought out the beautiful doll that 
could walk and talk and roll its eyes. 

“It’s for little sister,” Nancy whispered. “I’ll 
put it away carefully so it won’t disturb anyone. 
I want it to be a Christmas surprise.” 

Never had there been such a dinner in the old 
farmhouse. All the relatives with their children 
sat down to the big, long table. Peter glanced 
at the big brown turkey, the heaped dishes of 
vegetables, the homemade pickles and jelly. Then 
his eyes traveled to the sideboard, with its variety 
of pies, both mince and pumpkin. His enraptured 



208 


PETER AND NANCY IN EUROPE 


gaze even took in the nuts and apples and pop¬ 
corn balls, and he knew that the Christmas tree 
in the closed-up living room was already loaded 
with candy cornucopias and frosted animal 
cookies. 

But he did not seem satisfied. 

The grace was said. He lifted his eyes, and 
they fixed themselves on an immense glass bowl 
full of richly jellied cranberries. 

“Mother,” he asked in deep earnestness, “may 
I have all the cranberry sauce I want?” 

“Why, certainly, son.” 

Nancy lifted the dish and set it in front of 
Peter. Uncle Lee winked at his fellow travelers. 

“Why go away,” he asked, “when all the best 
things are at home? Merry Christmas!” 































































































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Cf\1b VJOOORINC- 






















































































